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THE 


Benefit  of  The   Doubt 


MARY  CLARE  SPENSER 


FIJTH 


EDITION 


NEW    YORK 

G.   P.   PUTNAM'S    SONS 

27   *    2g   WEST    23D   STREET 
1886 


COPYRIGHT  BY 
MARY  CLARE  SPENSER 

1882 


CONTENTS. 


I.  ALL  ABROAD 

II.  "A  VERY  FAIR  OFFER"         .... 

III.  BRETA'S  GHOSTS 

IV.  THERE  ARE  PEOPLE  AND  PEOPLE    . 

V.  "Do  HURRY  ON" 

VI.  IN  THE  FOREST-GLOAMING      .... 

VII.  "  SOMETHING  is  GOING  TO  COME  OUT  OF  ALL  THIS  ' 

VIII.  ELMWOOD 

IX.  MY  QUEEN,  OR  NOT  MY  QUEEN    . 

X.  A  STRATEGIC  ARRANGEMENT  .... 

XI.  A  GREAT  ADMIRATION  FOR  SOLDIERS    . 

XII.  "Dio  I  NOT  TELL  You  HE  is  DEEP?" 

XIII.  ^ESTHETICISM 

XIV.  THE  BLACK  ART     ...... 

XV.  "OPERAS  WILL  BE  LOVELY"  .... 

XVI.  THREE  KISSES 

XVII.  "So!" 

XVIII.  UNDER  ONE  ROOF 

XIX.  "ALL  WITHIN  OURSELVES"    .... 

XX.  THE  Two-BY-Two  ARRANGEMENT 

XXI.  THE  DAY  OF  THE  MATINEE    .        .        •   '  ->  ~ 

XXII.  A  BOLD  STROKE      .        .        .        . 

XXIII.  "THE  HALF  is  GREATER  THAN  THE  WHOLE" 

XXIV.  EIGHT  MADE  FOUR 


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r\ 


The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt 


i. 

ALL    ABROAD. 

AMONG  the  many  friends,  relatives,  ac- 
quaintances, or  lovers  who  met  one  early 
evening  in  the  commodious  central  station  of 
Milan  (where  order  reigns  so  supreme  that,  in 
the  bustle  of  in-coming  and  out-going  trains, 
to  and  from  all  points,  none  are  crowded  or 
jostled)  two  persons  were  about  to  pass  each 
other,  each  bound  on  his  own  way,  with  but  a 
casual  :  "  Buona  sera,"  when  the  elder  of  the 
two,  a  man  tall  and  angular,  with  piercing  black 
eyes  full  of  fire  and  ardor,  with  long  black  hair 
gray  sprinkled,  who  might  have  been  Paganini 
himself,  but  who  was  not,  came  suddenly  to  a 
halt,  exclaiming : 
"  Ola/  signore." 


2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt, 

As  the  young  man  thus  hailed  turned  with 
a  graceful  movement  and,  advancing  a  step 
toward  the  other,  stood  in  a  superb  attitude  de^ 
noting  polite  attention,  the  one  who  had  hailed 
nim  said,  still  in  Italian  : 

"  Your  pardon,  Signer  Dunraven.  But  you 
have  been  away  from  Milan  for  some  weeks,  in 
—in  London,  I  think." 

"  Si,  signer  professore,  as  you  say,  in  Lon- 
don," replied  Dunraven,  meeting  the  full  blaze 
of  the  professor's  eyes  but  for  a  moment  only  ; 
his  own  finely  formed,  but  rather  uncertain  blue 
eyes — that  never  seemed  to  meet  any  other 
eyes  fairly — drifting  carelessly  off  into  space. 

"  And  I,  I  am  just  from  Paris,"  resumed  the 
professor,  who,  with  the  first  of  his  keen 
glances,  had  fully  taken  the  whole  of  the  six 
feet  and  three  inches  of  the  other  in.  "I  went 
to  Paris  with  your  uncle,  il  Signor  Whyte,  but 
— ebbene  /  I  returned  without  him." 

Nothing  lighter  could  well  be  conceived  than 
the  easy  grace  with  which  young  Dunraven 
changed  his  attitude  to  one  that  not  only 
showed  to  still  better  advantage  his  tall,  ath- 
letic, and  finely-proportioned  form,  and  his 
somewhat  picturesque  attire,  but  also  served 


All  Abroad.  3 

as  a  sort  of  challenge  embodying  a  question,  as 
though  he  asked  : 

"Is  that  all  ?  What  more  can  it  be  you  wish 
of  me  ?  " 

"It  is  of  your  uncle,  the  Signer  Whyte,  I 
would  speak,"  said  the  professor,  replying  as  to 
a  spoken  interrogation.  "  Have  you  heard  from 
him  lately  ?  "  he  added  in  a  deep  voice,  and 
with  a  significant  look  full  of  ominous  portent, 
that,  instead  of  arousing  anxiety,  fell  on  the 
polished  surface  before  him  as  harmlessly  as  a 
bomb-shell  on  the  exterior  of  an  ironclad. 

"  Let  me  think,"  replied  Dunraven,  care- 
lessly, but  still  carefully  retaining  his  pose  of 
studied  attention.  "  No,  Signer  Trapassi,  I 
have  not  heard  from  my  uncle  for  full  three 
weeks." 

"  Nor  from  madamigella,  your  cousin  ?  " 

"  Not  one  word."  And  Dunraven,  with  con- 
summate skill,  changed  his  attitude  to  one  the 
very  apotheosis  of  tender  regret.  "  Miss  Gar- 
net very  seldom  favors  me  with  a  line.  But  you 
mistake,  Signer  Trapassi,  Miss  Breta  Garnet  is 
not  rrty  cousin  ;  Signer  Whyte,  her  own  uncle, 
is  my  uncle  by  marriage  only.  His  wife  was  my 
mother's  sister." 


4  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

11  Let  us  go  from  here,  and  on  into  the  city," 
said  Trapassi.  "  It  would  be  better  that  what 
I  have  to  say  should  not  be  overheard.  You 
walk,  do  you  not,  Signer  Dunraven  ?  For  my- 
self I  always  walk.  Per  Bacco  !  I  get  enough 
of  sitting  in  the  cars." 

"  Si,  signore.  By  all  means  let  us  walk.  I 
have  no  affection  for  the  societa  degli  omnibus, 
or  for  the  musty  fiacres,"  returned  Dunraven, 
laughing  lightly. 

As  they  passed  through  the  porta  Principe 
Umberto,  from  the  strada  belting  the  city  out- 
side its  walls,  Trapassi,  casting  one  of  his  light- 
ning glances  on  the  impassively  handsome 
blonde  face  of  his  companion,  said  in  a  startling 
tone  : 

"  I  parted  from  the  Signer  Whyte  in  the  Rue 
de  Clichy  !  Ahime  !  The  debtor's  prison,  you 
know." 

"  The  debtor's  prison,  I  know,"  repeated  Dun- 
raven,  turning  gracefully  and  halting  a  moment 
to  contemplate  the  professor.  "  Yes,  I  know 
the  Clichy  of  Paris,  but,  pardon  me,  maestro,  I 
know  nothing  of  your  meaning." 

"  It  is,  that  he  himself,  the  Signer  Whyte,  is 
there,  incarcerated  for  quite  a  large  sum." 


All  Abroad.  5 

Fairly  surprised  for  an  instant  out  of  an  atti- 
tude he  had  assumed — as  they  proceeded  on 
their  way, — indicative  of  respectful  attention  to 
the  words  of  one  older  and  wiser  than  himself, 
although  by  no  means  his  equal  in  point  of 
wealth,  Dunraven  could  only  repeat : 

"  Quite  a  large  sum !  " 

"  We  went  together  to  Paris,  as  I  said," 
continued  Trapassi,  "  to  see  what  could  be  done 
about  your  uncle's,  the  Signer  Whyte's,  loss  of 
property,  and — " 

"  The  loss  of  his  property !  "  again  caught  up 
Dunraven. 

"  Corpo  di  Bacco  !  Of  every  danaro,  he  is 
worth !  And  no  sooner  had  he  set  foot  in  Paris 
than  he  was  arrested  and  clapped  into  that  vile 
prison.  All  through  the  failure  of  the  concern 
in  which  all  his  money  had  been  invested." 

"  You  take  my  breath  away !  You  shock 
me  beyond  measure,  signor  professore !  "  re- 
turned Dunraven  (though  from  the  airiness  of 
his  tone  he  might  have  said  :  "  You  delight  me 
beyond  measure !  ").  "  Was  it  that  new  enter- 
prise, the  great  banking  bubble  of  Marchmont 
&  Guion,  in  which  my  uncle  was  so  unfortu- 
nate as  to  invest  ?  " 


6  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  In  which  the  Signer  Gulielmo  Waldo  in- 
vested his  property  for  him,"  said  Trapassi  sig- 
nificantly. 

"  Yes,  Uncle  William  has  for  years  managed 
— or  mismanaged  Mr.  Whyte's  affairs, — who 
hates  business,  and  cares  only  for  his  music  and 
— my  cousin  Breta." 

"  Hundreds  besides  the  Signor  Whyte  have 
been  ruined  by  that  Marchmont  &  Guion  fail- 
ure," asserted  the  professor.  "  The  Signor 
Gulielmo  Waldo  himself — " 

"  Ha  !  has  my  Uncle  William  also  gone  up  ?  " 
asked  Dunraven,  very  much  as  though  he  was 
speaking  of  a  balloon  ascension. 

"  He  also  has  lost  every  farthing,  and  has 
suddenly  disappeared,  it  being  confidently  re- 
ported that  he  has  gone  to  the  United  States  to 
seek  his  fortune  on  some  one  of  the  south- 
western ranches." 

"  Oh,  no  fear  for  Uncle  William  !  He  will 
speedily  retrieve  himself  in  some  way.  He  al- 
ways does.  He  is  used  to  it.  But  something 
must  be  done  for  Uncle  Raymond  Whyte  with- 
out loss  of  time." 

"  He  must  be  extricated  from  that  wretched 
prison  at  once,"  broke  in  the  professor. 


All  Abroad.  7 

"  As  you  say,  signore.  It  must  necessarily 
be  very  unpleasant  for  him." 

"Unpleasant?  Per  dio  santo !  it  is  in- 
tolerable, not  to  be  borne !  "  denounced  the 
professor,  hotly,  with  energetic  gesture  and 
flashing  eyes.  "Just  think  of  the  Signorina 
Breta !  How  can  she— 

"  Ah !  tell  me  when  I  do  not  think  of  her. 
She  is  always  to  be  thought  of.  Faith  !  I  have 
thought  of  nothing  else  all  my  life.  Breta  Gar- 
net is  the  embodiment  of  my  creed, — of  all  I 
believe  in  or  worship." 

"  You  are  fortunate  in  possessing  a  creed  in 
these  days  of  rank  unbelief,  when  to  doubt  is  so 
much  the  rage."  This  the  professor  said  in  a 
tone  so  dry  that  bleached  chips  could  not  be 
dryer,  adding  :  "  Your  worship,  signore,  is,  I  be- 
lieve— 

"  The  beautiful,  always  the  beautiful,"  inter- 
rupted Dunraven  airily,  unmindful  of  the  point- 
ed edge  to  his  companion's  words.  "  I  live  for 
the  day,"  continued  he,  walking  on  in  an  atti- 
tude indicative  of  rapt  and  subdued  enthusi- 
asm ;  "  for  the  day  when  the  inharmonies  of 
our  dual  existence  shall  be  reconciled  and  be- 
come fused  into  a  unity  that  will  cause  all  man- 


8  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

kind  to  become  as  one  vibrating  soul — vibrating 
to  the  beautiful,  the  all-perfect.  But  I  fear  we 
shall  not  realize  this  Utopia  in  my  time." 

"  I  fear  not,"  returned  the  professor,  with  a 
smile  full  of  malicious  humor,  and  a  stronger 
flavor  of  the  bleached  chips  in  his  tone. 

The  professor  seemed  to  take  the  greatest  in- 
terest in  studying  the  bright,  handsome  fellow 
by  his  side  ;  in  noting  the  light-hearted  pleas- 
ure he  took  in  himself  and  his  attitudes  ;  in  his 
"creed"  ;  his  ready  knowledge  of  languages  ; 
and  in  his  faultless  pronunciation, — occasionally 
mixing  the  soft,  poetic,  consonant-eliding  Vene- 
tian with  his  purest  Tuscan. 

"  Your  uncle,  the  Signer  Whyte,  has  spoken 
to  me  of  a  fine  place  near  Nuova  York  owned 
by  the  Damigella  Breta.  I  suppose  she  might 
now  like  to  sell  it,"  suggested  the  professor. 

"  It  is  a  magnificent  place,  or  was,  and  is 
erected  on  a  magnificent  site.  It  is  the  re- 
mains, the  last  of  a  very  large  property  which 
should  have  been  hers,  the  Signorina  Breta's, 
but  which  that  infernal  Baron  Erlau  made  way 
with." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard,  but  what  of  the  grand 
place  ?  "  urged  the  professor. 


All  Abroad.  9 

"  It  is  already,  and  has  been  for  several 
years,  up  for  sale,"  returned  Dunraven,  "  but, 
unfortunately,  the  house  is  full  of  ghosts,  and 
no  one  cares  to  purchase." 

"  Full  of — benissimo  /  Full  of — of  what  ?  " 
demanded  the  professor. 

"  Of  ghosts,"  replied  Dunraven,  as  lightly  as 
though  the  commonest  thing  in  the  world  was 
a  house  full  of  ghosts. 

"In  what  shape  do  these — ghosts  manifest 
themselves?"  asked  the  professor,  with  an  in- 
credulous smile  born  of  ignorance. 

"  In  the  shape  of  noises." 

"Rats,  loose  casements,  north  winds  whist- 
ling down  chimneys,"  suggested  the  professor. 

"  Very  possibly,"  acquiesced  Dunraven,  with 
light  indifference. 

"  But  to  return  to  your  uncle,  I  myself  have 
a  plan  by  which  I  feel  sure  the  Signer  Whyte 
can  be  liberated,  and  at  once." 

"  You !  "  exclaimed  Dunraven. 

"  Do  not  imagine,  signore,  that  I,  a  poor 
devil  of  a  maestro  di  musica  can  command 
thousands  of  francs  with  which  to  help  any  one. 
But  the  Signor  Whyte  has  many  friends  who 
will—" 


io  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Your  pardon,  Signer  Trapassi,  but  this  is  a 
duty  for  me,  solamente,  to  perform.  I  will  see 
the  Signorina  Breta  at  once,  and  will  then  start 
for  Paris." 

"  Your  pardon,  signore.  Permit  me  to  say 
you  should  start  without  delay ;  in  the  next 
train  for  Paris.  The  signorina  will  be  better 
pleased, — naturalmente.  She  has  not  been  a 
pupil  of  mine  for  the  last  eight  years — since 
she  was  eight  years  old, — and  a  phenomenal 
pupil,  with  that  voice  of  hers  without  a  parallel, 
for  me  not  to  become  well  acquainted  with 
the  fact  that  her  uncle,  the  Signer  Whyte,  is 
the  very  cynosure  of  her  eyes." 

"  As  you  say,  signer  professore,"  returned 
Dunraven  airily. .  And  with  a  graceful  bow  and 
an  "Addto"  he  turned  into  another  street. 


II. 

A    VERY    FAIR    OFFER. 

BUT  instead  of  retracing  his  steps  to  the 
station,  Dunraven,  by  a  short  cut  he  knew 
well,  soon  reached  Mr.  Whyte's  picturesque  casa, 
the  door  of  which  he  found  wide  open,  and  just 
ready  to  emerge  from  it  were  Mr.  Whyte's 
butler  and  cook,  each  bearing  immense  bundles ; 
the  butler  having  also  a  large  basket  on  his 
arm,  through  the  wicker-work  of  which  Dun- 
raven  saw  the  gleam  of  silver. 

Taking  all  in  at  half  a  glance,  he  sprang 
lightly  into  the  passage-way,  and  so  suddenly 
that  he  gave  to  the  astonished  butler  so  decided 
an  impetus  backward,  that  he  fell  against  the 
corpulent  cook,  she  exclaiming  in  the  vile  accent 
of  the  Milanese  people  :  "  Oh,  per  dio  santo  !  " 

Following  up  his  advantage  before  they  had 
time  to  recover  themselves,  Dunraven  backed 
them  through  the  door  of  a  waiting-room  at  the 


1 2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

left,  and  pulling  the  door  shut,  he  turned  the 
key  upon  them. 

This  effected,  he  passed  out  into  the  street, 
and  seeing  a  patrol — &g2iardia  notturno — pass- 
ing the  corner  beyond,  he  hailed  him,  and  soon 
had  the  pair  under  arrest  ;  the  cook  vehement- 
ly protesting  that  she  should  never  have  thought 
of  it  but  for  that  bugiardo  the  diavolo,  while 
the  butler  said  nothing. 

"  Volete  venir  meco  f  "  demanded  the  guar- 
dia  notturno  politely.  Whereupon,  leaving  their 
bundles,  the  two  went  with  him  meekly  to  the 
lock-up. 

Turning  from  the  crestfallen  culprits  with  the 
careless  ease  that  characterized  all  his  move- 
ments, Dunraven,  as  the  front  door  closed  on 
them,  ascended  the  stairway,  his  feet  noiseless 
on  the  deep  pile  of  the  Moquette  carpet,  and 
seeking  the  drawing-room,  was  arrested  at  the 
threshold  of  its  open  door  by  the  glimpse  of  a 
picture  that  impressed  itself  on  his  vision  and 
haunted  him  for  years  after. 

It  was  not  the  still  life  of  the  elegantly  ap- 
pointed room,  with  its  rare  and  costly  art- 
treasures  so  daintily  arranged  that  nothing 
seemed  out  of  place  or  too  much,  that  so 
affected  him. 


A  Very  Fair  Offer.  13 

Nor  was  it  the  pose  of  Madama  la  Contessa, 
with  her  fine  aristocratic  face, — who,  seated  at 
the  centre-table  with-  the  rays  of  a  large  astral 
lamp  blazing  full  upon  her,  and  so  absorbed  in 
a  letter  she  was  reading,  she  did  not  hear  his 
step, — that  took  away  his  breath. 

Of  an  ancient  and  impoverished  family,  Ma- 
dama the  Contessa  Romano,  as  he  well  knew, 
for  the  love  she  bore  Breta's  mother  and  the 
pity  she  felt""  for  the  little  five-year-old  Breta 
herself,  when  that  mother  died,  had  taken  the 
full  charge  of  the  little  orphan,  receiving  from 
Mr.  Whyte  for  her  invaluable  services  a  hand- 
some and  most  respectfully  offered  yearly  sti- 
pend. Still,  noble  and  estimable  as  she  was, 
her  attitudes,  ever  conventionally  polished, 
never  startled  one  into  excessive  admiration. 

It  was  at  the  far  end  of  the  room  Dunraven's 
eyes  rested  in  such  rapt  admiration  ;  where, 
framed  in  by  one  of  the  trellised  windows,  in 
all  the  charm  of  her  young  beauty, — a  beauty  it 
was  becoming  quite  the  fashion  in  Milan  to  ad- 
mit had  not  its  equal, — Breta  herself  stood  ;  the 
yellow,  mellow  moonlight,  streaming  down  full 
upon  her,  and,  glinting  through  the  soft  waves 
of  her  pretty  brown  hair,  formed  a  golden  halo 


14  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

around  her  lovely  head,  making  her  appear,  in 
the  fleecy  clouds  of  her  white  dress,  almost  like 
one  transfigured. 

She  was  gazing,  with  large  solemn  eyes,  out 
upon  the  moonlighted  garden.  Dunraven  had 
never  before  seen  her  look  so  thoughtful  and 
sad, — nor  so  charming. 

"  How  she  manages  it  I  cannot  see,"  was  his 
mental  comment.  "  Without  effort,  without 
study,  she  falls  into  attitudes  that  would  take 
the  most  practised  of  us  months  to  attain.  And 
she,  the  enshrinement  of  all  beauty, — she 
laughs  at  it  all,  and  yet,  in  spite  of  herself,  ex- 
presses in  her  every  look  and  motion,  a 
preciousness, — the  very  .ideal  of  our  Renais- 
sance." 

How  many  seconds  longer  the  young  disci- 
ple of  the  aesthetic  cult  would  silently  have  de- 
voured with  his  eyes  the  lovely  "  Ideal,"  is  not 
known,  for  Madama  la  Contessa,  looking  up  from 
her  letter,  rising  and  welcoming  him,  broke  the 
charm. 

Breta  came  forward  from  out  the  moonlight, 
and  meeting  him  halfway  in  the  room,  with' the 
calm  serenity  of  manner  so  habitual  to  her, 
greeted  him  with  the  cordiality  of  a  friend  of 


A  Very  Fair  Offer.  i5 

long  standing  ;  he  carrying  the  hand  she  offered 
him  to  his  lips,  according  to  the  foreign  custom 
he  had  learned  in  his  long  sojourn  abroad. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  sad  news  of  Uncle 
Ray  ?  "  she  asked,  with  unwonted  mournfulness 
of  cadence.  "  I  have  just  received  a  letter  from 
him.  Madama  was  reading  it  when  you  came," 
she  added. 

"  Not  an  hour  ago,"  returned  Dunraven, 
telling  himself  that  Breta's  sadness  made  her 
even  more  beautiful  than  ever.  "  I  met  in  the 
station  signer  the  professore,  who  had  just  re- 
turned from  Paris,"  added  he,  handing  a  chair 
to  Breta,  near  that  of  Madama  the  Contessa. 
And  taking  a  chair  himself  beside  Breta,  and 
assuming  a  peculiarly  graceful  position,  indica- 
tive of  his  excessive  admiration  for  her,  he  re- 
counted his  interview  with  the  professor,  and 
his  adventure  with  cook  and  butler. 

"  111  news  travels  fast,"  said  the  contessa. 
"  They  thought  the  padrone  could  not  look 
after  his  property  and  that  they  would.  But  we 
must  not  be  remiss  in  his  absence.  I  will  go  and 
see  to  the  other  servants,  and  that  all  is  safe." 

"  Rather  let  me  go,  madama,"  urged  Breta, 
rising  from  her  chair  as  the  contessa  arose. 


1 6  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt, 

11  Not  so,  my  dear,"  objected  the  contessa, 
waving  Breta  back.  "  Stay  with  your  cousin 
Noel,  whom  you  have  not  seen  for  several 
weeks." 

"  Madama  la  Contessa  Romano  is  a  lady  I 
most  profoundly  esteem,"  said  Dunraven  to 
Breta,  still  speaking-  in  Italian.  He  had  risen 
with  the  ladies  and  now  reseated  himself  in  the 
most  striking  attitude  of  his  repertory,  after 
Breta  had  resumed  her  chair. 

"  Did  Signor  Trapassi  say  when  Uncle  Ray 
would  be  liberated  from  that  dreadful  prison  ?  " 
asked  Breta  wistfully,  unmindful  of  Dunraven's 
flippant  speech. 

"  Unfortunately,  Breta  mia,  not  until  he  or 
some  one  pays  the  sum — " 

"  Is  it  a  very  large  sum,  Noel  ?  "  interrupted 
Breta. 

"  Several  thousand  piastres." 

"  How  many  thousand  ?  " 

"  Twenty  thousand." 

"  Twenty  thousand  piastres  would  not  be  so 
very  much  if  Uncle  Ray  had  not  lost  all  his  prop- 
erty. But  how  can  he  pay  it  now  ?  "  asked 
Breta  anxiously.  "  Twenty  thousand  dollars  is 
a  terrible  sum  when,  for  the  first  time,  one  feels 


A   Very  Fair  Offer.  17 

the  lack  of  it.  Nothing  in  the  house  must  be 
sold,  Uncle  Ray  said  in  his  letter,  on  account  of 
creditors." 

"  Have  no  anxiety,  carissima.  It  can  all  be 
arranged." 

"Can  it?  How?  Who  is  to  arrange  it?" 
persisted  Breta. 

"  Will  you  give  me  the  privilege,  cara 
Breta?" 

"  Will  I — give  you — I  do  not  understand," 
faltered  Breta.  And  then  observing  a  peculiar 
gleam  in  Dunraven's  blue  eyes,  and  an  un- 
wonted flush  on  his  blonde  face,  she  stopped 
short  in  her  speech  for  a  moment.  "  Will  / 
give  you  the  privilege  ?  Is  not  Uncle  Ray 
your  uncle  ?  Can  you  liberate  him  ?" 

"  My  uncle  by  marriage  only,  you  know, 
Breta.  But,  carissima,  I  did  not  come  to  dis- 
cuss that,  but  to  ask  you  if  you  would  make  me 
the  happiest  man  the  world  contains  by— 
The  expression  gathering  in  her  dark  eyes, 
that  were  fixed  full  upon  him,  confused  and  for 
a  moment  checked  him. 

Rising  to  his  feet  he  approached  her. 

"  Breta,  amato  bene,  will  you  trust  yourself 
to  my  keeping  ? "  he  exclaimed,  bending  with 


1 8  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

infinite  grace  on  one  knee  before  her,  and  gaz- 
ing with  impassioned  eyes  into  her  young  face. 
"  You  are  to  me  the  all-perfect,  the  all-beauti- 
ful, the  realization  of  my  dream—  He  came 
to  a  sudden  stop  again  as  Breta,  rising  from  her 
chair,  took  a  few  steps  backward,  and  then, 
turning  from  him,  walked  the  length  of  the 
room  and  stood  again  in  the  broad  moonlight ; 
making  of  herself,  unconsciously,  a  charming 
picture  once  more — framed  by  the  trellised, 
moonlighted  window. 

Dunraven,  with  a  movement  as  though  he 
would  go  over  to  her,  restrained  himself,  and 
stood  silent  and  watchful ;  his  eyes  devouring 
the  soft,  child-like  bloom  of  her  cheek  and  lips, 
the  graceful  waves  of  her  hair — so  dark  in  the 
shade,  so  golden  in  the  light, — that  the  Septem- 
ber breeze  was  gently  stirring.  He  noted  the 
unusual  lustre  of  her  dark  eyes,  that  seemed  in- 
tensified by  some  feeling  he  was  not  permitted 
to  share. 

Presently  she  turned,  walked  deliberately 
toward  him  again,  and  standing  erect  in  front 
of  him  said,  in  a  tone  with  no  bitterness  in  it, 
simply  calm,  with  a  charming  dignity  that 
aroused  in  him  a  still  greater  admiration  for  her  : 


A    Very  Fair  Offer.  19 

"  What  you  have  just  said  to  me  would,  I 
suppose,  be  considered  a  very  fair  offer.  So 
much  for  so  much.  A  condition.  If  I  will  ac- 
cede to  your  proposition  you  will  pay  the 
twenty  thousand  dollars  to  liberate — not  your 
— but — my  uncle." 

Her  logical  way  of  putting  it  caused  his  pro- 
posal to  seem  to  him  more  as  though  he  had 
made  her  a  declaration  of  war  than  a  declara- 
tion of  love ;  and  he  was  taken  completely 
aback. 

"  Breta !  "  he  ejaculated  pleadingly,  "  do  not, 
pray  do  not  mistake  me !  I  make  no  condi- 
tions. How  can  I  ?  Consider  our  uncle  re- 
leased the  moment  I  can  get  to — " 

"  Just  how  much  money  have  you  ?  "  asked 
she  pitilessly.  "  I  never  before  thought  of  you 
as  possessing  money  ;  never  before  gave  money 
a  thought  in  any  way.  You  have  a  great  deal, 
have  you  not  ?  " 

Dunraven,  taken  still  more  aback  by  the  sar- 
casm conveyed  in  her  words  than  by  her  tone  so 
devoid  of  sarcasm,  or  her  manner  so  self-con- 
tained and  settled  in  purpose,  was  unprepared 
for  a  reply. 

"  My  only  guardian  being  detained  in  prison, 


2O  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

away  from  me,"  continued  she,  "  I  have  no  one 
to  look  after  my  interests,  and  before  deciding 
it  is  necessary  for  me  to  know  just  how  much 
you— 

"  Breta,  for  the  love  of  heaven,  desist !  Breta 
— carissima,  I — I  do  not  know  you !  You  are  in 
an  entirely  new  role  !  Breta  satirical, — a  role, 
in  all  the  diversity  of  her  charming  little  ways, 
I  have  never  before  seen  her  assume." 

"  Breta  bargained  for !  So  much  for  so 
much !  "  said  she,  a  tinge  of  scorn  in  the  quiet 
of  her  tone.  "  Who  ever  before  has  seen  her 
in  that — role  ?  " 

"  Breta,  cugina  mia,  let  me  adjure  you  to 
hear  me.  I  repeat, — I  make  no  conditions.  I 
simply  offer  you  the  devotion  of  a  life.  I  have 
always  adored  you — I  always  shall.  All  I  have 
is  yours — all  I  am." 

Breta  withdrew  the  hand  he  attempted  to  take, 
but  so  softly,  so  quietly, — stepping  back  a  few 
paces  again, — that  she  seemed  to  melt  away 
from  him  like  a  dream. 

"  Perhaps  it  is  some  one  of  your  other  suitors 
who  is  more  favored,"  continued  he,  with  bitter- 
ness. "  Do  not  look  surprised  ;  you  thought  I  did 
not  know.  But  I  know  every  thing  that  comes 


A    Very  Fair  Offer.  21 

near  you.  You  see,  everybody  wants  to  marry 
you — always  will.  I  wanted  to  marry  you  when 
you  were  two  years  old  and  I  was  seven,  and 
when  you  were  seven  and  I  twelve,  and  so  on 
straight  through  until  now  that  you  are  sixteen 
and  I  twenty-one.  If  I  have  never  before  told 
you,  and  if  we  have  always  been  like  brother 
and  sister,  it  is  because  I  never  before  could 
command  the  courage  to  tell  you  how  I  worship 
you.  Breta,  my  bellissima,  I  shall  never  be 
happy  until — until  you  marry  me.  Or  is  it  il 
Conte  Buonarotti  who  is  the  fortunate  he  ?  " 

Breta,  who  had  retreated  from  him  but  a  few 
steps,  was  standing  with  one  hand  resting  on 
the  contessa's  chair,  while  with  the  other  she 
was  lightly  turning  over  the  leaves  of  the  book 
the  contessa  had  been  reading  before  receiving 
from  her  her  uncle's  letter, — the  occasional  illus- 
trations receiving  from  her  inscrutable  eyes  an 
occasional  passing  glance.  She  looked  up, 
meeting  Dunraven's  eyes  as  he  mentioned 
Buonarotti's  name,  but  vouchsafed  no  other  re- 
ply. 

Approaching  nearer  to  her,  Dunraven  added  : 

"  Or  it  may  be  the  Signer  Ludovico  Goldoni, 

or  il  Duca  di  Lanasco.     You  see  I  know  about 


22  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

them  all.  Breta,  will  you  marry  me  ?  "  he  con- 
cluded abruptly,  approaching  another  step 
nearer  to  her. 

"  Noel,  you  are  unlike  yourself.  I  do  not 
know  you  ;  you  are  in  an  entirely  new — role,"  she 
returned,  using  his  own  words  with  a  quiet,  deli- 
cate touch  of  spirit  that  made  her  seem  intan- 
gible as  a  white  flame, — as  though  before  him, 
and  yet  miles  away  from  him." 

"  Breta,"  he  said  with  a  light  laugh,  changing 
his  mode  of  attack,  "  I  always  thought — I  al- 
ways hoped — you  had  some  little — cousinly  re- 
gard— some  little  sisterly — affection  for  me.  Am 
I  not  right  ?  Is  it  not  so  ? " 

"  Not  a  little,  but  a  great  deal  sisterly — affec- 
tion for  you,  Noel,  but—  * 

"  Say  no  more,  Breta  mia,"  and  he  came  so 
close  beside  her  his  breath  vibrated  the  loose 
threads  of  her  hair,  as  he  bent  his  tall  form  over 
her,  gazing  down  into  her  face,  but  not  offering 
to  touch  her,  adding  :  "  I  am  going,  caret  Breta, 
— I  am  going  direct  to  Paris.  Remember,  you 
have  not  refused  me.  I  go  with  the  benefit  of 
the  doubt  to  cheer  me.  Addio"  and  he  made  a 
graceful  exit,  stopping  at  the  door  an  instant  to 
say  again  :  "  Addio" 


A    Very  Fair  Offer.  23 

Breta  sank  back  in  the  contessa's  chair,  as 
white  as  her  dress  ;  andva  few  moments  after, 
when  Bertrando,  the  footman,  announced  :  "  II 
Signor  Trapassi,"  she  looked  up,  as  she  rose  to 
welcome  the  professor,  her  eyes  moist  with 
tears. 

The  tears  had  disappeared  when  she  greeted 
him,  but  the  'maestro  showed  a  sympathetic 
appreciation  of  her  trouble  by  his  paternal  tone, 
as  he  said  : 

"  I  have  come,  figlia  mia,  to  bring  you  good 
news.  Your  uncle  will  be  liberated  at  once,  and 
through  you." 

"  Through  me,  signor  professore ! "  ex- 
claimed Breta,  in  profound  astonishment. 

"  Through  you,  figlia  mia, — if  you  so  decide. 
I  bear  with  me,  for  your  acceptance,  an  offer 
from — " 

"  An  offer — maestro — from—  '  repeated  Bre- 
ta, with  a  look  of  dismay. 

"  Not  an  offer  of  marriage,  madamigella. 
Heaven  forfend !  "  prayed  the  professor,  chuck- 
ling at  her  discomfiture, — his  piercing  eyes  and 
quick  brain  having  comprehended  the  cause  of 
it.  He  had  met  Dunraven  going  out  of  the 
house  ;  he  knew  of  Buonarotti,  of  Goldoni,  of 


24  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  Duca  di  Lanasco — the  latter  noble  gentle- 
man himself  had  told  the  maestro  of  his  defeat 
and  of  his  admiration  for  the  charming  little 
Americana,  the  maestro  s  pupil. 

"Not  an  offer  of  marriage, — grazieadio!" 
he  repeated,  with  comic  gravity.  "  But  an  offer 
from  Signer  the  Director  of  La  Scala,  for  you  to 
sing  as  prima  donna,  upon  your  own  terms, 
now,  this  coming  season  ; — the  rehearsals  to 
commence  at  once.  Also,  you  are  to  receive  a 
sum,  a  handsome  sum,  as  soon  as  you  sign  this 
contract,  and  the  professor  drew  from  the  breast- 
pocket of  his  coat  a  folded  paper. 

"This  is  very  sudden,  maestro; — am  I  com- 
petent— to— 

"  Competent,  madamigella !  I  am  here  with 
this"  and  the  maestro  lightly  tapped  the  paper 
in  his  hand.  "  Is  not  that  sufficient  answer  ? 
Per  Bacco  !  None  since  Malibran  or  Sontag  can 
reach  you.  Signer  the  Impresario  knows  what 
he  is  about,  if  any  one  does." 

"  He  ought  to,  certainly,"  returned  Breta, 
musingly. 

"  He  has  heard  you,  as  you  know.  The  great 
Verdi  has  heard  you — and  you  well  know  his 
judgment  of  your  voice  and  method.  What 


A    Very  Fair  Offer.  25 

more  would  you  ?  "  asked  the  professor,  with 
great  energy,  his  eyes  burning  like  two  coals 
of  fire. 

"  Less  fear  of  the  life — the  publicity  of  it,  and 
the—" 

"  The  diavolo  !  Go  and  talk  with  Madama 
Verdi,  the  great  Strepponi  that  was.  You 
know  her.  She  will  tell  you  what  the  life  is." 

"  She  is  one  of  the  brave  ones,  while  I  am  a 
horrible  coward,  maestro" 

"  And  I — I  taught  you  to  sing.  Will  that  go 
for  something  or  nothing  ?  " 

"  And  I,  if  I  can  sing,  owe  it  all  to  your 
teaching,"  replied  Breta,  with  a  charming  smile. 

"  Ta,  ta  !  figlia  mia.  Nature  has  done  more 
for  you  than  your  old  maestro.  Nature  has 
given  you  all,  except  the  method  it  has  been 
my  good  fortune  to  impart  to  an  incomparable 
intelligence." 

"  That  last  shot,  signor  professore,  calls  for 
another.  You  forgot  to  add  that  the  method 
you  speak  of  is  that  of  the  first  maestro  in 
Italy,"  said  Breta  in  a  tone  of  respectful  raillery. 
"  But  should  I  consent—  "  continued  she,  grow- 
ing thoughtful. 

"  Which  of  course  you  will  do,"  said  the  pro- 
fessor, conclusively. 


26  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Should  I  consent,  then  as  to  the  terms. 
You  say  on  my  own  terms.  But  I — I  know 
nothing  of  terms." 

"  How  will  these  figures  answer,  madami- 
gella?  I  inserted  them  in  pencil  myself,"  and 
the  professor,  opening  the  contract,  handed  it 
to  her,  pointing  to  a  certain  clause. 

"  Oh,  I  cannot  be  worth  all  that !  "  exclaimed 
Breta,  reading  as  one  in  a  dream. 

"  Shall  I  ask  the  Duca  di  Lanasco  how  much 
he  considers  you  worth  ?  "  maliciously  asked 
the  professor. 

"  To  the  management,  I  mean,  of  course," 
returned  Breta,  ignoring  the  jocoseness  of  the 
professor,  whom  all  Milan  declared  could  have 
been  a  great  buffo  actor,  had  he  so  chosen. 

"To  the  management,  certainly.  Well,  we 
shall  see  this  day  six  months.  Now,  will  you 
sign  ?  " 

"  There  is  so  much  to  take  into  considera- 
tion." 

"  Let  me  do  the  considering  while  you  do 
first  the  signing  and  then  the  singing,  madami- 
gella." 

"  And  you  say  I  am  to  have  twenty  thousand 
piastres  now,  at  once.  That  will  just  pay  back 


A   Very  Fair  Offer.  27 

— "  here  Breta  stopped.  "  Yes,  signer  pro- 
fessore,  I  will  sign." 

The  quick  gleam  that  shot  down  on  her  from 
the  professor's  coal-black  eyes,  would  have  re- 
vealed to  her,  had  she  encountered  it,  that  her 
unspoken  words  had  been  divined,  as  he  handed 
her  a  pen  filled  with  ink,  he  had  taken  from  his 
pocket. 

"But  if  I  should  fail  and  suffer  fiasco  ? " 
asked  Breta,  with  the  pen  poised  in  the  air. 

"  In  that  space  write  your  name,"  said  the 
professor,  leaning  over  the  young  girl,  and 
pointing  with  his  long  finger  to  the  spot.  "  I 
predict  for  you  a  great  success,  figlia  mia"  con- 
tinued he,  as  he  laid  on  the  table  before  her  a 
check  for  the  twenty  thousand  piastres,  his 
eagle  eyes  softening  as  he  looked  down  from 
his  height  upon  her. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  signer  professore,  to 
say  so." 

"  You  will  have  the  whole  world  at  your 
feet." 

"  That  is  the  worst  of  it,"  returned  Breta,  with 
a  pretty  knotting  up  of  her  white  forehead. 
"  If  one  need  sing  only  for  the  love  of  it, — the 
pure  love  of  true  art ;  and  not  have  to  undergo 


28  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  deafening  shrieks  and  thunders  of  applause 
—that  put  one  in  mind  of  the  ragings  of  a 
menagerie  of  wild  beasts  ; — and  worse  still,  if 
one  did  not  have  to  undergo  the — the  whole 

world  at  one's  feet,  and  all  that.      Maestro  mzo 
* 

I  shall  love — I  shall  live  in  the  singing — the 
music  ;  but  I — I  shall  never  like  the  life." 

"  Ah,  my  poverina,  you  will  get  over  all 
that,"  replied  Trapassi,  laughing  maliciously. 
"  A  gran  Diva,  as  you  will  be,  must  take  all 
that  without  question — senza  dubbio." 

The  professor  was  standing,  ready  to  take 
his  leave,  still  laughing  and  assuring  Breta  that 
she  would  get  over  all  that,  as  Madama  the 
Contessa  entered.  He  stopped  with  Italian 
politeness  to  hear  her .  enlarge  on  the  condition 
of  household  affairs.  She  had  found,  she  said, 
Bertrando  the  footman,  Luigi  the  coachman, 
and  all  the  rest,  except  Nisida  the  Signorina 
Breta's  maid,  ignorant  of  the  theft  and  arrest 
of  the  butler  and  cook.  Nisida  was  on  her 
way  to  give  the  alarm  as  the  Signor  Dunraven 
entered. 

The  contessa  was  delighted  with  Breta's  en- 
gagement to  sing,  and  predicted  for  her  darling 
a  great  career. 


A    Very  Fair  Offer.  29 

"  And  now,  although  we  shall  have  to  re- 
trench, of  course,"  said  she,  with  a  great  sigh  of 
relief,  "  we  shall  not  be  compelled  to  give  up 
this  pretty  casa.  It  is  such  a  lovely  dwelling,  it 
would  be  a  thousand  pities  ; — and  then  the  Sig- 
nor  Whyte  is  so  much  attached  to  it,  and  has 
filled  it  with  so  many  exquisite  gems  of  artl " 


III. 

BRETA'S  GHOSTS. 

AT  the  conclusion  of  Breta's  "  unprecedently 
successful  engagement,"  as  the  papers  had 
it,  nothing  would  induce  her  to  accept  another 
engagement  at  La  Scala,  or  at  the  opera-houses 
of  any  other  city, — although  she  had  received 
various  most  flattering  inducements.  In  vain 
all  the  maestri  urged. 

The  Signer  Trapassi  was  in  the  profoundest 
despair. 

"  Upon  my  life,  madamigella,"  fumed  he, 
•  "you  are  the  first  successful  cantatrice  the 
world  has  yet  seen  that  ever  threw  away  such 
a  prospect! — fame,  wealth,  every  thing, — for 
there  is  no  height  you  could  not  reach  ; — and 
all  because  a  crowd  of  fools  persecute  you  with 
their  senseless  attentions  (for  I  know  that  is 
the  cause)  that  any  other  woman  in  the  uni- 
verse, but  you,  would  be  proud  of." 

3° 


Breta  s  Glwsts.  3 1 

But  Breta  was  inexorable.  And  when,  for 
reasons  of  her  own,  she  did  not  fully  divulge, 
she  not  only  would  not  sing  any  more  on  any 
stage,  but  persisted  also  in  quitting  Milan  and 
Europe,  to  sail  for  the  shores  of  her  native  land 
with  her  uncle,  Mr.  Whyte  (who  invariably  in- 
dulged her  in  her  every  wish),  her  old  maestro, 
in  the  height  of  his  anguish,  bade  her  farewell 
with  broken  words  and  tears  in  his  eyes. 

Three  years  had  passed  since  Breta  left 
Milan  ;  and  one  lovely  morning — it  was  in  mid- 
June — a  burly  gentleman,  in  black  of  faultless 
cut,  sought  a  certain  mansion  that  had  been 
abandoned  to  decay  ; — riding  through  one  of 
the  gaps  in  its  evergreen  hedge,  unmindful  of 
its  great  iron  gates,  that,  half  off  their  hinges, 
were  ever  open. 

His  horse,  a  superb  animal,  black  as  the 
rider's  apparel,  picked  his  way,  with  loosened 
rein,  through  the  straggling  weeds  of  the  car- 
riage drive,  once  so  gravel-smooth  ;  affording 
his  master  ample  time,  on  his  way,  to  study 
sunlight  effects  through  grand  vistas,  where 
down  in  the  depths  of  abrupt  and  rocky  ravines 
wound  a  sparkling  stream.  Or  to  note  in 


32  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

smoother  spots  (so  ample  were  the  grounds)  the 
picturesque  confusion  of  half-tumbled-down 
summer-houses,  voiceless  fountains,  fishless 
basins  ;  broken-nosed  Venuses  tilted  awry  on 
their  pedestals  ;  Cupids  shorn  of  their  fat  little 
arms ;  dethroned  Bacchuses  toppling  aslant  as 
though  overcome  by  their  own  wine  ;  and  on  a 
confusion  of  Naiads,  Apollos,  Mercuries,  Satyrs, 
and  Fauns  ; — all  canting  helplessly  at  odd 
angles,  fantastically  crowned  or  draped  by  way- 
ward creepers,  anot  staring  blankly  at  each 
other,  as  though  vainly  asking  what  ruthless 
vandals  had  converted  into  an  incongruous 
jumble,  a  once  well-executed  design  of  garden- 
art,  telling  certain  elaborate  mythological 
stories. 

Reining  up  at  last  in  front  of  the  dismantled 
mansion,  gorgeous  even  in  its  desolation,  and 
hitching  his  horse  to  a  broken  column  of  the 
veranda  instead  of  to  any  of  the  ostentatiously 
carved,  hitching-posts,  he  walked  up  the  broad 
steps  and  stood  before  an  opened  oriel  window, 
peering  in  as  though  he  rather  expected  some 
startling  something  to  spring  out  upon  him. 

"  Can  you  inform  me,  sir,  as  to  the  terms  of 
purchase  of  this  property  ?"  s^id  he  to  the  per- 
son he  saw  within. 


Bretas  Glwsts.  33 

Obtaining  no  response,  he  shouted  at  the  top 
of  his  lungs  : 

"  Ho  !  within  there  !  I  wish  to  make  inquiries 
relative  to  the  purchase  of  this  property." 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,"  replied  a  small-sized,  mid- 
dle-aged gentleman,  showing  himself  at  the 
window.  "  Pray  don't  exert  your  lungs  so  pain- 
fully. I  am  not  in  the  least  deaf.  I  did  not 
know,  when  you  first  spoke,  but  that  you  might 
be  the  ghost  in  person,  and  I  make  it  a  rule 
never  to  reply  to  IT.  But  I  never  know,  I  get 
things  mixed  up  so." 

"  Then  there  is  a  ghost  ?  That  is  what  I 
wish  to  ascertain." 

"  Go  to  the  front  door,  sir,  and  I  will  let  you 
in.  The  ghost  won't  harm  you, — at  least  it 
never  has  any  one  yet  ;  though  I  never  know, 
I  get  things  mixed  up  so." 

Seated  in  the  room  of  the  open  window,  the 
stranger  in  black  looked  around  him.  But  dis- 

O 

covering  only  legitimate  objects — elegantly 
carved  old-time  chairs,  cabinets,  and  tables  of 
the  same  antique  model,  a  claw-footed  secre- 
tary of  elaborate  workmanship,  containing  books 
and  writing  implements,  some  music  on  a  rack, 
and  a  violin  on  one  of  the  chairs  ;  also  masterly 


34  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

pictures  on  the  walls, — his  glance  reverted  to 
the  little  gentleman,  who  had  returned  to  his 
occupation  of  grilling,  in  a  dainty,  natty  way,  a 
small  beefsteak  over  a  few  coals  in  the  capa- 
cious, old-fashioned  grate. 

"  Then  there  is  a  ghost  ?  "  again  demanded 
the  black  guest,  his  eyes  starting  on  another 
voyage  around  the  room,  and  bringing  up  in  a 
half-opened,  curiously-carved  wardrobe,  in  which 
were  hanging  vestments  of  small  size  and  quaint 
pattern,  the  property  evidently  of  his  little  host. 

"  Before  I  answer  your  query,  sir,  I  should 
like  to  be  certain  that  you  are  not  the  ghost 
come  at  last  to  pounce  upon  me  with  a  business 
pretext.  IT  is  up  to  any  dodge.  IT  has  re- 
peatedly threatened  to  appear.  I  have  long 
been  expecting  IT.  But  I  never  know,  I  get 
things  mixed  up  so." 

As  the  little  gentleman  said  this,  in  a  tone 
half  querulous,  half  jocose,  his  visitor  demanded 
with  a  most  unghostly  laugh  :  "  Do  I  look  like 
an  IT?  Not  a  pennyweight  less  than  two 
hundred  pounds,  I  assure  you,  Mr.  — 

"  Whyte,"  returned  the  other  mildly,  almost 
as  though  his  having  a  name  at  all  required  an 
apology. 


Br eta's  G/iosts.  35 

"  I  am  of  the  legal  profession,  Mr.  Whyte. 
My  client  is  a  speculator  in  ghosts ;  so  now  for 
your  ghost,  if  you  please,"  and  the  legal  gentle- 
man concluded  with  another  expansive  laugh,  as 
though  the  ghost  were  the  best  joke  of  the  sea- 
son. 

Little  Mr.  Whyte  nodded  his  head  medita- 
tively, and  in  response  to  his  visitor's  burly 
laughter,  twitched  his  mouth  around  into  a 
twisted  smile,  expressive  of  mild  endurance 
rather  than  of  mirth,  that  showed  smiles  to  be 
but  stray  waifs  on  his  face. 

His  legal  guest,  with  another  searching  glance, 
wished  to  know  at  what  figure  he  held  the 
property,  including  the  ghost. 

Mr.  Whyte  met  the  professional  eyes  fasten- 
ed on  his  with  a  look  as  clear  and  steadfast  as 
that  of  an  unhackneyed  boy  (he  had  altogether 
a  freshness  and  innocence  about  him  suggestive 
of  a  boy  who  had  forgotten  to  grow  old),  and 
seating  himself  at  the  table,  upon  which  he  had 
placed  plates  and  condiments,  his  grilled  steak, 
coffee-cups,  and  rolls,  he  invited  his  guest,  by  a 
quick  wave  of  his  little  hand,  to  partake  of  his 
cheer,  which  the  guest,  by  a  heavy  wave  of  his 
ponderous  hand,  declined. 


36  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  The  price  of  this  property,"  said  he,  "  is 
fifty  thousand  dollars,  less,  by  more  than  half, 
than  it  would  be  were  it  not  for  the  ghost,  you 
see,  sir.  If  this  poor  place  were  as  I  knew  it 
years  ago,  when  it  had  no  ghost,  it  could  not 
be  bought  for  any  money.  I  will  show  you 
around  as  soon  as  you  like.  That  's  why  I  am 
here.  I  have  no  responsibility  of  ownership  ; 
the  ghost  is  sufficient  for  me.  I  sometimes 
think  more  than  sufficient, — but  I  never  know, 
I  get  things  mixed  up  so."  And  little  Mr. 
Whyte  applied  himself  to  his  coffee  and  rolls  in 
a  quaint,  self-communing  way,  as  though  work- 
ing out  the  Infinite  Calculus. 

"  Might  I  ask  who  is  the  owner  ?  "  queried 
his  guest. 

"  Certainly,  sir,  it  is  no  secret.  Though  I 
sometimes  think  it  quite  possible  that  the  owner 
does  not  own  it  at  all,  but  that  the  ghost  does. 
But  I  never  know,  I— 

"  I  will  make  a  note  of  the  owner's  name," 
suggested  the  gentleman  in  black,  taking  out  his 
tablets,  and  nodding  a  dignified  acceptance  of 
the  error  of  his  first  demand  in  asking  if  he 
might  ask, — which  his  little  host  had  so  inno- 
cently corrected. 


Bret  as  Ghosts.  37 

With  an  air  of  profoundest  reverence,  as  a 
devotee  might  speak  of  the  Virgin  Mother,  the 
little  gentleman  took  from  his  lips  the  coffee- 
cup,  and  fitting  it  softly  and  caressingly  into  its 
saucer, — as  though  it  were  a  chalice  containing 
the  long-sought  typical  grail, — he  replied  : 

"  The  legal  and  sole  possessor  of  this  property 
is  a  young  and  beautiful  lady, — beautiful  past 
conception,  and  good  as  she  is  beautiful, — 
whose  name  is  Miss  Breta — 

"  The  legal  and  sole  possessor  of  this  property 
is  a  young  and  beautiful  lady, — beautiful  past 
conception,  and  good  as  she  is  beautiful, — whose 
name  is  Miss  Breta —  "  sang  an  unseen  person 
in  a  rich,  full  tenor,  adapting  little  Mr.  Whyte's 
words  to  a  grand  air  from  Himmel's  "  Ossian," 
and  abruptly  ending  on  an  augmented  second, 
as  though  the  words  were  insufficient  with  which 
to  finish  the  sequence. 

"  Who  's  that?  "  demanded  the  guest  in  black. 
"  Are  you  a  ventriloquist,  Mr.  Whyte  ?  " 

Mr.  Whyte  not  responding,  he  repeated  his 
question,  looking  around  the  room  with  startled 
dignity. 

"  Excuse  me,  sir,  I  am  no  ventriloquist.  'J 
was  waiting  to  hear  if  IT  would  not  resume  the 


38  The  Benefit  of  che  Doubt. 

theme  and  end  honestly  on  the  tonic.  IT  has 
quite  the  habit  of  leading  off  on  the  diminished 
fifth  perhaps,  or  on  the  minor  seventh,  or, 
worse,  on  the  major  seventh,  leaving  you  in  an 
uncomfortable  state  of  suspense — like  being 
partly  hung  and  then  cut  down.  If  IT  had  half 
a  conscience  it  would  make  a  point  of  conclud- 
ing satisfactorily  on  the  tonic." 

The  stranger  gravely  ejaculated  :  "  Ah,  in- 
deed !  "  but  notwithstanding  his  portly  dignity, 
he  looked,  speaking  in  musical  parlance,  de- 
cidedly unstrung, — as  though  a  tonic  might  be 
satisfactory  to  him  also. 

But  he  made  a  great  show  of  being  uncon- 
cerned, and  asked  : 

"  Does  this  ghost  of  yours  do  any  thing  be- 
sides sing,  Mr.  Whyte  ?  " 

"  Every  thing  else  !  I  sometimes  think  the 
house  will  come  down  about  my  ears,  when  IT 
or  THEY  (for  the  ghost  is  legion)  get  so  boister- 
ous as  to  make  me  almost  fancy  myself  a  ghost 
along  with  them.  But  then  I  never  know,  1 
get  things  mixed  up  so." 

"  Mixed  up,  I  should  think  so !  One  day  of 
it  would  do  for  me.  Why,  it  was  right  in  the 
room  here,  over  there.  But  it  is  just  what  my 
client  is  after." 


Bretas  Ghosts.  39 

"  We  have  had  many  persons  looking  at  this 
place,  on  account  of  its  magnificent  site, — but 
all  object,  like  yourself,  to  the  ghost.  And  now, 
to  have  an  applicant  turn  up  who  wants  a  ghost ! 
— I  should  say  your  client  must  be  somewhat 
eccentric.  But  then  I  never  know,  I — ' 

"In  respect  to  desiring  ghosts  for  society, 
yes,  but  otherwise  he  is  in  no  sort  eccentric," 
interrupted  the  other. 

"  We  all  have  our  peculiarities,"  replied  little 
Mr.  Whyte,  with  great  simplicity.  "  I  some- 
times think  I  have  mine.  But  then  I — " 

"  The  young  gentleman  for  whom  I  am 
transacting  this  business,"  said  the  stranger,  "  is 
singularly  endowed  by  nature,  and  can  afford  to 
have  his  peculiarities.  He  has  rare  gifts  which 
have  been  highly  cultured, — is  of  an  exceeding- 
ly handsome  exterior, — of  an  uncommonly  gen- 
erous disposition  ;  and  is  the  possessor  of  great 
wealth.  His  name  is  Joslyn  de  - 

The  last  name  of  the  fortunate  he,  to  whom 
had  been  vouchsafed  so  many  enviable  gifts, 
was  drowned  in  the  sudden  crash  of  brass  and 
the  shriek  of  catgut,  followed  by  a  magnifi- 
cent soprano  solo,  in  a  bell-like  voice  and  true 
operatic  style ;  the  words  beginning  with, 


4O  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  The  young  gentleman,"  and  ending  with, 
"Joslyn  de—  being  substituted  for  those  of 
the  original  score. 

"  It  did  end  on  the  tonic  !  "  rapturously  ex- 
claimed little  Mr.  Whyte,  catching  up  his  violin 
and  rendering  portions  of  the  melody  over 
again,  with  a  method  finished  and  masterly. 

A  round  of  applause,  the  clapping  of  unseen 
hands,  the  shouts  of  "  Bravo!  "  "  Encore!  "  of 
unseen  voices,  following  the  little  gentleman's 
violin-playing,  he  took  quite  as  a  matter  of 
course.  His  visitor  tried  also  to  look  uncon- 
cerned, as  though  he  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
being  serenaded  and  concerted  by  shadows 
every  month  in  the  year. 

"  I  must  say,  Mr.  Whyte,"  he  remarked, 
"  not  to  enlarge  upon  your  own  playing,  which 
is  faultless ;  just,  and  broad  in  style,  equal  to  that 
of  any  violinist  I  ever  heard,  and  I  've  heard 
them  all — all  the  public  ones  I  mean, — I  must 
say,  that  if  I  had  been  conveyed  here  blind- 
folded in  the  midst  of  that  operatic  blast,  I 
should  have  sworn  I  had  been  taken  to  Rossini's 
'  Barber.'  I  never  heard  a  finer  rendering  of 
the  '  una  voce  pocofa!  or  to  more  curious  words. 
I  've  heard  Sontag's  Rosina,  and  Malibran's 


Bret  a 's   Ghosts.  41 

Rosina  ;  I  've  heard  Jenny  Lind  sing  the  cava- 
tina  inimitably  ;  have  made  prima  donnas  a 
study  from  a  boy  ; — and  it  seems  as  though 
years  had  been  wiped  out,  and  that  I  had  just 
listened  again  to  Malibran.  I  heard  her  in  Mi- 
lan when  I  was  fifteen.  But  let  us  proceed  to 
business.  We  will  go  out,  if  ycu  please,  under 
the  trees, — if  the  ghost  does  not  go  there.  I 
have  heard  enough  and  can  report  favorably. 
I  have  heard  quite  sufficient." 

The  ghost  was  of  another  opinion,  for  as 
little  Mr.  Whyte  arose  from  his  seat  saying  : 
"  IT  never  leaves  the  house,  we  will  go—  "  he 
was  interrupted  by  a  perfect  diapason  of  deaf- 
ening discord ;  as  though  a  whole  army  of  the 
tallest  of  ancient  Titans,  and  the  shortest  of 
modern  "short-boys,"  had  clubbed  together  for 
a  concert  called  callithumpian. 

The  legal  gentleman  who  came  to  seek  a 
ghost,  having  gotten  more  ghost  than  he  ex- 
pected, rushed  from  the  house  with  prodigious 
strides,  little  Mr.  Whyte  trotting  unconcernedly 
after  him. 

"There,  I  am  out  of  that  infernal  din!  I  al- 
ways detested  noise.  I  get  as  far  from  the  big 
drums  at  the  opera  as  I  can.  I  never  go  to 


42  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

hear  Wagner,  as  I  cannot  stand  the  fusilade  of 
heavy  cannon  and  doubling  of  blatant  brass  in- 
struments (which  doubling  always  produces 
discordant  fifths)  in  Wagner's  late  operas.  I 
always  go  out  of  town  on  the  Fourth  of  July, 
and, — but  if  Joslyn  de  Grey  likes  the  ghostly 
racket,  he  is  welcome  to  it." 

"  We  should  all  follow  the  bent  of  our  in- 
clinations if  we  can  ;  many  of  us  cannot,"  said 
Mr.  Whyte. 

"  It  is  entirely  on  scientific  grounds  that  Mr. 
de  Grey  wishes  a  house  of  ghosts.  Young  as 
he  is,  only  twenty-six,  he  is  a  great  scientist, 
devoted  to  the  advance  of  natural  science.  He 
is  aiming  to  discover — I  really  cannot  state 
exactly  what,  but  he  is  experimenting  with 
electrical  batteries  and  chemical  compounds." 

"  Oh  !  "  meekly  responded  Mr.  Whyte. 
"  And  now  that  you  and  I  and  the  ghost  have 
hobnobbed  together  in  so  friendly  a  way," 
continued  he,  "  I  will  make  bold  to  ask  you  by 
what  name  I  shall  address  you.  When  I  make 
the  acquaintance  of  a  new  ghost — I  mean  indi- 
vidual,— I  like  to  have  a  handle  by  which  memo- 
ry can  take  hold  of  when  thinking  of  him." 

"  With  all  pleasure  imaginable.     My  name  is 


Bretas   Ghosts.  43 

Benjamin  Black,  at  your  service  ;  here  is  my 
card." 

"  Bless  me!"  exclaimed  little  Mr.  Whyte  in 
his  fresh,  roseate  way  ;  the  boy  that  had  forgot- 
ten to  grow  old,  sticking  out  prominently. 

"What  a  curious  collision  of  colors!  Black, 
white,  red,  and  grey,  mingle,  mingle,  and  so 
on."  And  he  put  Mr.  Black's  card  carefully  in 
his  wallet. 

"  Where  do  you  get  your  red,  Mr.  Whyte?  " 
asked  Mr.  Black,  laughing  ponderously. 

"  My  niece's  name  is  Garnet,  Breta  Garnet," 
replied  Mr.  Whyte,  with  another  twisted  smile. 
"  Now  if  I  were  a  believer  in  such  things,  and  I 
am  not,"  added  he,  "  I  should  say  it  meant 
something.  But  I  never  know,  I  get — " 

"  You  do  well  not  to  believe  in  any  thing, 
Mr.  Whyte." 

"  Any  thing  supernatural,  you  mean." 

"  Supernatural,  of  course,"  assented  Mr. 
Black. 

"  Except  ghosts,  of  course,"  interposed  Mr. 
Whyte. 

"  Well,  yes,  except  ghosts,"  laughingly  as- 
sented Mr.  Black,  with  a  new  and  saving  faith 
in  the  late  demonstrations.  "  But  what  a  charm- 


44  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ing  spot !  "  he  exclaimed,  recovering  from  his 
laugh  and  looking  about  him  over  the  land- 
scape. 

Mr.  Whyte  had  led  the  way  to  a  grove  of 
elms  on  an  ascent ;  from  which  point,  over  an 
intervening  gorge,  down  whose  bank  a  beauti- 
ful spring-fed  cascade  foamed  and  sparkled, 
could  be  seen  the  pretty  village  of  Lea  below, 
and  a  vast  extent  of  valley  beyond,  with  moun- 
tains in  the  distance. 

"  Why,  such  a  nook  as  this,  with  these  giant 
elms  overhead  and  that  view  in  front,  is  worth 
its  weight  in  gold,"  continued  Mr.  Black,  seating 
himself  on  the  least  shattered  of  the  carved 
oaken  benches  near  the  natural  fountain,  which 
was  the  generous  source  of  the  cascade. 

"  You  may  well  say  that,  Mr.  Black.  And 
this  knoll,  and  these  elms,  and  this  fountain,  and 
these  carved  oaken  seats,  have  seen  grand  com- 
pany, I  can  tell  you.  Gentlemen  of  foreign 
legations,  Presidents  of  the  United  States, 
noblemen  with  titles  nearly  as  long  as  the 
Declaration  of  Independence, — American,  Ital- 
ian, French,  Austrian,  English  ;  all  were  wel- 
come here ;  for  Mr.  Howard  Garnet  kept  open 
house  in  those  days." 


Bretas  Ghosts.  45 

"Was  Mr.  Howard  Garnet  Miss  Breta's 
father?" 

"  Her  grandfather,"  replied  little  Mr.  Whyte. 

4<  And  how  did  the  place  come  to  be  left  to 
such  utter  desolation  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  story  of  the  house.  Every 
house  has  its  story,  more  or  less ;  and  that 
house  (and  little  Mr.  Whyte  jerked  his  smal\ 
thumb  over  toward  the  devastated  mansion)  has 
its  story  more,  I  should  judge.  But  I  never 
know,  I— 

"Can  the  story  be  told?"  asked  Mr.  Black, 
looking  over  toward  the  house,  just  discernible 
through  the  trees,  as  though  possibly  the  "  le- 
gion "  might  be  peering  at  him  from  its  win- 
dows. 

"  It  is  involved  in  mystery,  the  solution  of  it 
being  buried  with  Mr.  Howard  Garnet,  on 
whom  no  censure  was  ever  attached,  the  Gar- 
nets having  all  been  true  gentle-folk  as  a  family. 
But,  always  generous  and  unsuspicious,  he  per- 
mitted a  dark,  wily  Austrian,  of  the  name  of 
Erlau,  a  baron,  to  gain  so  unaccountable  an  as- 
cendancy over  him,  that  Baron  Erlau  not  only 
lived  here  with  him,  but  he  managed  Mr.  Gar- 
net's affairs.  To  this  Erlau  the  whole  evil  was 


46  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

attributed,  an  ugly  rumor  being  afloat  that  he 
had  occasioned  Mr.  Garnet's  death.  But  there 
was  no  proof — nothing  that  could  be  taken  hold 
of  legally.  The  rest  can  be  all  told  in  three 
words,  and  as  I  see  you  take  an  interest  in  it  I 
will  tell  it  to  you.  After  Mr.  Howard  Garnet's 
strano-e  death  the  house  was  abandoned — the 

O 

ghosts  having  taken  possession,  you  see.  His 
widow  (Breta's  grandmother)  went  abroad  with 
her  only  son  (Breta's  father),  and  there  she 
died.  This  son,  on  coming  of  age,  married  my 
sister,  and  then,  for  the  first  time,  discovered 
that  the  Baron  of  Erlau  had  made  way  with 
the  entire  property  (such  things  are,  you  know), 
and  nothing  could  be  done  about  it,  for  the 
baron  himself  suddenly  died  —  shot  himself. 
Nothing  was  left  of  the  vast  Garnet  property 
but  this  place,  which,  being  deeded  to  his  son's 
heirs  by  Mr.  Howard  Garnet  (Breta  proving  the 
sole  heir),  could  not  be  touched  by  the  rapacious 
baron.  Breta's  father,  when  he  found  himself 
worth  nothing,  was  so  affected  on  account  of  his 
young  wife,  that  he  took  sick  and  died.  I  then 
brought  my  sister  (Breta's  mother)  to  the  United 
States  for  a  change,  where  Breta  was  born,  and 
where  I  lost  my  own  dear  little  wife.  Breta  was 


Bretas  Ghosts.  47 

then  two  years  old,  and,  heart-broken,  I  took 
her  and  her  mother  back  to  Milan,  where,  when 
Breta  was  five  years  old,  her  mother  (my  sister) 
died.  All  death,  you  see,  so  far ;  but  it  is  the 
way  with  some  families.  I  owned  a  handsome 
property  then,  left  me  by  my  father,  and  I 
spared  nothing  in  the  education  of  Breta — I  had 
no  children  of  my  own.  Three  and  a  half  years 
ago  my  brother-in-law  (my  wife's  youngest 
brother),  acting  as  my  agent  (I  never  had  any 
turn  for  business),  made  an  unfortunate  invest- 
ment, and  I  lost  every  cent." 

"  Stay  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Black.  "  Yes,  to 
be  sure  !  It  was  the  Signorina  Breta  Garnet, — 
the  very  name !  I  was  in  Milan  about  three 
and  a  half  years  ago,  on  some  important  busi- 
ness for  a  client  of  mine.  A  cantatrice,  a  per- 
fect marvel  of  a  cantatrice,  a  debutante,  about 
whom  all  Milan  was  going  wild,  was  singing 
at  the  time.  I  heard  her  every  opera  night 
during  my  stay  in  the  city.  She  was  very 
young — sixteen  I  think  they  said,  and  was  a 
marvel  of  beauty  as  well.  Was  it — ,was  she  ? 
And  here  Mr.  Black  stopped,  looking  in- 
tently at  Mr.  Whyte. 

"  My   niece,"   responded    Mr.   Whyte,    with 


48  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt, 

much  simplicity.  "  She  is  now  teaching  in  Miss 
Rutherford's  Seminary,  on  that  hill  just  above 
the  village."  And  he  indicated  the  spot  by  a 
sweep  of  his  small  hand. 

"  But  I  do  not  understand  ;  she,  a  great 
prima  donna,  teaching  in  a  seminary !  why, 
she  was  creating  a  perfect  furor — 

"  Pardon  me,"  mildly  interrupted  little  Mr. 
Whyte,  "  but  that  was  the  difficulty.  She  could 
not  stand  it,  you  see,  sir." 

"  She  could  not — stand — could  not  stand 
what  ?  " 

"  The  fuss  they  made,  you  know." 

"  I  thought  prima  donnas  liked  a  fuss  made 
over  them  ;  and  the  more  the  fuss  the  better 
pleased  they  always  were,"  and  Mr.  Black 
laughed  ponderously  at  his  own  conceit. 

One  of  his  twisted  smiles  briefly  illumined 
Mr.  Whyte 's  fresh,  roseate  face. 

"  It  may  be  as  you  say,  sir,"  observed  he, 
"  but  my  niece  never  liked  it ;  and,  when  her 
engagement  was  up,  she  could  not  be  prevailed 
upon  to  make  any  more  engagements,  and — we 
came  here." 

"  And  does  she  like  it  here  ?  " 

"  Vastly." 


Bretas  Glwsts.  49 

"  Strange,  very  strange  to  be  willing  to  bury 
such  marvellous  gifts  as  hers — and  she  so  young 
—in  a  little  country  place  like  this." 

"  Why,  you  see,  Mr.  Black,  she  had  no  peace 
of  her  life.  She  was  serenaded  so  constantly 
she  could  get  no  sleep.  She  had  the  greatest 
profusion  of  costly  presents  sent  her  that  she 
would  not  accept  and  could  not  return,  as  they 
were  anonymous.  Everybody  was  making  her 
offers  of  marriage,  and  fighting  duels  for  her, 
and  she  was  glad  enough  to  get  away  and  to 
bury  herself,  as  you  call  it,  in  the  seclusion 
of—" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  see,"  said  Mr.  Black,  thought- 
fully, not  waiting  for  his  host  to  add  his  last 
words.  "  Miss  Garnet,  with  her  exquisite  voice 
and  method,  and  her  remarkable  dramatic  talent, 
and  her  wonderful  beauty,  possesses  also  a  cer- 
tain magnetic  charm  that  is  irresistible.  I  saw 
that  when  I  heard  her.  She  is  like  no  one  else  ; 
yes,  yes,  I  see,  I  can  well  understand." 

"  For  myself,"  continued  Mr.  Whyte, "  I  play 
on  the  organ  down  there  in  that  pretty  Gothic 
church.  You  can  just  see  it  from  here.  I  could 
get  a  very  much  larger  salary  in  New  York, 
and  could  run  down  there  on  the  cars  of  course 


5o  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

every  Sunday,  but  Breta  is  taking  much  pleas- 
ure in  singing  in  the  choir — they  cannot  applaud 
in  a  church,  you  know, — and  I  do  not  like  to 
leave  her,  her  pleasure  pleases  me." 

"  Naturally,"  returned  Mr.  Black. 

Thanking  Mr.  White  for  his  narration,  he 
assured  him  that  with  his  own  musical  gift  and 
his  Stradivarius, — a  genuine  one  as  he  had  seen 
by  its  form — he  ought  to  have  been  heard  from 
in  New  York  and  elsewhere,  and  by  this  time 
reaped  a  fortune,  to  compensate  for  the  one  he 
had  lost. 

Little  Mr.  Whyte,  with  the  greatest  simplici- 
ty, acknowledged  that  although  he  had  never 
played  in  public  he  had  achieved  quite  a  name 
in  Milan,  and  Paris,  and  Venice,  and  in  Lon- 
don also,  with  his  violin,  among  the  dilettanti  di 
musica  and  even  the  maestri. 

"  I  really  care  for  little  else  in  this  world  but 
music, — except  my  niece,"  added  he,  and  then 
reverting  to  the  business  on  hand  :  "  You 
knew,"  said  he,  "  that  the  greater  part  of  the 
valuable  paintings  and  all  the  plate  had  been 
removed  from. the  house  ?  " 

Mr.  Black  was  acquainted  with  the  fact. 

"  And  the  greater  part  of  the   library  also. 


Bretas  Ghosts.  5i 

But  furniture  and  every  thing  else  remain  in- 
tact, and  in  a  good  state  of  preservation.  The 
interior  of  the  house  has  suffered  little  or  none 
in  comparison  with  the  exterior.  Its  strong 
fastenings  protected  the  house.  The  grounds 
suffered  the  most.  If  I  were  sharp,  Mr.  Black," 
and  little  Mr.  Whyte  gave  one  of  his  twisted 
smiles,  "  I  should  double  on  the  price,  it  being 
the  ghost  your  client  demands.  But  I  will  be 
content  with  the  fifty  thousand  dollars  fixed 
upon  a  year  ago,  when  it  was  ascertained  no 
one  would  purchase  on  account  of  the  ghost." 

"  There  is  much  legal  justice  in  that  way  of 
putting  the  question,"  returned  Mr.  Black, 
laughing.  He  then  proposed  waiting  on  Miss 
Garnet  at  once  for  her  signature  to  the  deed, 
which  he  had  with  him. 

Mr.  Whyte,  acquiescing,  proceeded  back  to 
the  house  to  lock  the  doors,  and  saddling  his 
horse,  he  rode  forth  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Black  to 
make  a  business  call  on  his  niece. 

Some  writing  and  witnessing  and  signing 
were  done,  and  a  legal  transfer  was  made  to 
Joslyn  de  Grey,  of  Elmwood,  with  its  haunted 
house. 


IV. 

THERE  ARE  PEOPLE  AND  PEOPLE. 

THE   hum    of   lesson -saying   was    hushed. 
The  patter  of  little  feet  and  the  patter  of 
large  feet   had  ceased    making"  echoes   in   the 
great   airy   class-rooms    of    Miss    Rutherford's 
Seminary,  devoted  to  mischief  and  learning. 

It  was  Sunday  morning,  the  day  after  the  sale 
of  Elm  wood,  and  was  just  before  the  breakfast 
hour. 

Assembled  in  the  pupils'  parlor  were  as  many 
only  of  the  fair  owners  of  the  pattering  feet  as 
were  the  regular  boarding  pupils  of  the  estab- 
lishment, among  whom  the  possession  of  that 
traditionary  foot,  under  whose  aristocratic  arch 
the  stream  of  water  could  flow,  had  become  a 
standing  boast ;  while  any  allusion  to  the  foot 
of  that  widely-sung  Ethiopian  maiden,  the  hol- 
low of  which  made  a  hole  in  the  ground,  gave 
great  offence. 

§« 


There  are  People  and  People.  53 

Miss  Pella  Morton,  a  young  lady  favored  by 
fortune  in  being  a  "  red-headed  heiress,"  and  a 
very  pretty  blonde  belle,  and  who  was  in  her  last 
year,  and  successfully  undergoing  the  operation 
of  being  finished,  had  just  remarked,  in  a  mealy 
falsetto,  that  she  saw  "  no  way  of  eluding  the 
impending  necessity  of  church  attendance." 

"  For  my  part,"  exclaimed  Miss  Frank  Bow- 
ers (Frank,  seldom  called  by  the  gentler  ab- 
breviation of  Fanny,  was  also  in  her  last  year, 
but  was  not  being  finished, — the  material  refus- 
ing the  finishing  polish  ;  was  also  an  heiress, 
but  of  the  reverse  type  from  Miss  Morton,  with 
jet-black  hair,  shading  into  that  blue  sheen  of 
the  raven's  wing  about  which  poets  used  to  rave 
before  some  hue  of  red  became  a  fashionable 
necessity), — "  for  my  part,  I  have  an  excruciat- 
ing headache,  and  shall  not  go  to  church,"  and 
Miss  Bowers  pointed  her  words  by  a  significant 
nod  that  sent  the  shadows  rippling  down  the 
crimped  waves  of  her  long,  dark  hair,  like  un- 
dulating clouds  of  fleece  over  a  storm-sky. 

"That  means  no  breakfast,"  squealed  Miss 
Morton,  elevating  her  pretty,  classically-formed 
nose  contemptuously.  "  I  shall  not  go  without 
my  breakfast  for  all  the  churches  that  were  ever 
made." 


54  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  I  could  quote  Scripture  about  the  advisa- 
bility of  not  living  by  bread  alone,  and  all  that, 
in  favor  of  my  argument,"  returned  Frank,  "  if 
it  were  not  slightly  wicked  ;  Miss  Morton  en  est 
I'  arbitre"  she  added,  with  a  humorous  defer- 
ence that  created  a  general  laugh. 

"  Slightly  wicked,  and  /the  judge  !  "  sneered 
Pella  Morton,  again  elevating  her  nose  and 
drawing  down  the  corners  of  her  prettily-chisel- 
led mouth. 

"  Friends,  lovers,  and  so  forth,  lend  me  your 
ears,"  quoted  Frank,  in  dramatic  contralto. 
"  Void  !  I  have,  as  I  said,  an  excruciating  head- 
ache, and  it  has  attacked  me  in  the  form  of  an 
apple-pie, — a  plump  pie,  deep  and  broad,  like 
that  famous  one  in  the  picture-books  that  B 
bit." 

"  Stolen  !  "  proclaimed  Pella  Morton. 

"Grand  del!  Here  her — stolen!  Not 
stolen !  "  tragically  rejoined  Frank,  deepening 
the  rich  contralto  of  her  voice  to  produce  as 
ludicrous  a  contrast  as  possible  to  Pella's  piping 
treble.  "  Honestly  bought,  and  with  an  honest 
tip  to  the  cook  big  enough  to  insure  secrecy, — 
with  a  view  to  this  Sunday  morning's  delecta- 
tion." 


TJiere  are  People  and  People.  55 

"  Bribery  and  corruption  ! "  ejaculated  Pella 
Morton,  in  her  squeakiest  falsetto. 

"  Je  suis  tout  a  voiis"  returned  Frank  mock- 
ingly. "  As  much  bribery  and  corruption  as 
you  like.  Que  me  voulez-vous  f  " 

"  What  I  would  have  of  you  is  English.  / 
never  mix  languages,"  retorted  Pella  Morton. 
"  When  /  speak  French  I  speak  French,  and 
when  /  speak  English,  I  speak  English" 

"  How  delightfully  dissimilar  we  are ! "  said 
Frank,  with  good-humored  irony.  "  I  always 
mix  them.  I  liked  them  mixed.  But  to  busi- 
ness. Who  will  join  me  in  headache  and  pie  ? 
There  is  sufficient  for  three  square  meals, — a 
perfect  gorge  !  It  won't  do  for  too  many  to  in- 
dulge in  headache,  or,  to  descend  to  the  lan- 
guage of  modern  classics,  Miss  Rutherford 
would  twig  and  wool  us, — and  worse,  the  pie 
would  n't  hold  out.  Now  who  goes  in  for  a 
pie-ous  headache  ?  " 

In  the  midst  of  the  laughter  that  had  to  be 
kept  within  Sunday  lirgits,  two  of  Frank's 
staunchest  friends  offered  themselves  as  candi- 
dates. 

"  '  Ha  !  'T  is  well ! '  as  Victor  Hugo  senten- 
tiously  remarks.  So  now;  Pella  Morton,  s  il 


56  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

vous  plait,  and  all  assembled,  look  to  it  that  you 
do  not  peach, — if  you  do  not — apple-pie." 

During  the  fresh  burst  of  laughter  that  fol- 
lowed Frank's  last  essay,  the  door  opened  and 
Breta  Garnet,  exquisitely  dressed  in  white  and 
looking  as  cool  and  fresh  as  a  tea-rose,  walked, 
or  rather  seemed  to  float,  into  the  room, — with 
such  inimitable  grace  did  she  move. 

"  Are  you  not  very  warm  in  here  this  lovely 
morning  ? "  asked  she,  her  voice  with  a  wood's 
robin  ring  in  it,  while  her  large  clear  eyes  took 
in  something  strange  and  not  quite  harmonious 
in  the  faces  around  her  ;  as  with  a  tender,  sym- 
pathetic glance,  she  looked  from  one  to  another. 
"  I  left  the  door  open  for  the  western  breeze  that 
comes  in  through  the  windows  of  the  corridor; 
but  if  you  prefer  it,  girls,  it  can  be  closed  again," 
added  Breta,  as  with  a  smile,  her  calm  glance, 
with  another  questioning  survey  of  the  group, 
rested  lovingly  on  the  mischievous  face  of  her 
friend  Frank. 

"  Frank  has  a  violent  headache,  Miss  Breta, 
and  was  afraid  of  the  draught,"  responded  Pella, 
with  a  winning  smile.  "  For  myself,"  she 
added,  with  a  little  high-treble  laugh,  "  I  am 
fond  of  the  air." 


There  are  People  and  People.  5  7 

"Sans  doute ;  violent,  on  my  z/0-racity,"  re- 
turned the  ready  Frank  in  as  cavernous  a  con- 
tralto as  she  could  command  without  injury  to 
her  throat,  and  with  diamond-pointed  flashes  at 
Pella  from  her  black  eyes  that  were  brimming 
over  with  mirth,  "  The  air  is  delicious,  Miss 
Garnet.  It  was  Pella,  by  the  way,  who  her- 
metically sealed  us  in  here,  that  she  might 
have  a  comfortable  growl  about  having  no 
headache  as  pretext  for  non-church  attend- 
ance. As  for  mine,  it  is  not  dangerous, — 
only  slightly  apple-plectic,  and  will  readily  yield 
to  pie-ous  meditation." 

A  soft  light  shone  in  Breta's  dark  gray  eyes, 
and  her  mouth  dimpled  into  a  radiant  smile,  in 
sympathetic  response  to  the  laughter  from  the 
merry  group  at  Frank's  bad  puns.  She  seated 
herself  on  the  sofa  beside  Frank,  who  was 
languidly  fanning  herself,  with  half-shut  eyes, 
thereby  showing  to  advantage  their  long,  jet- 
black  lashes ;  and  Breta  was  instantly  sur- 
rounded by  three  or  four  of  the  younger  girls. 
One,  the  youngest  of  Miss  Rutherford's  pupils, 
a  pretty  child  of  eleven,  and  sister  to  Frank, 
wedged  herself  so  closely  to  Breta  that  Frank 
uttered  the  protest : 


58  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt, 

"  How  can  you  be  so  rude,  Nelly  ?  Don't 
you  see  you  are  rumpling  Miss  Breta's  lovely 
white  muslin  ?  I  would  not  have  you  all 
swarming  and  buzzing  around  me  this  hot  day, 
like  so  many  flies,  for  all  the — 

"  No  one  would  ever  dream  of  such  a  thing, 
sister  Frank,"  interrupted  Nelly,  with  juvenile 
dignity  "  You  are  not  one  of  the  kind.  You 
are  too  much  like  Shakespeare's  fretful  porcu- 
pine, with  sharp  quills  sticking  out  all  around  ; 
instead  of  being  made  of  super-refined  honey, 
like  Miss  Breta.  Flies  love  honey,"  and  Nelly 
gave  Breta  an  emphatic  hug. 

"  Nelly,  if  you  won't  say  sharp  things  to  your 
sister  Frances,  I  will  tell  you  and  Gracie  Gay  a 
story." 

"  I  hope  it  will  have  a  moral  that  Frank  can 
profit  from,  Miss  Breta,"  said  Pella,  turning 
sweetly  to  Breta. 

A  brilliant  light  shot  into  Breta's  eyes,  as 
with  a  significant  smile  she  began  : 

"  Once  upon  a  time  a  great  and  powerful 
nation — that  we  might  liken  to  a  boarding- 
school,  as  from  first  to  last  it  has  had  some  hard 
old  lessons  to  learn — rebelled  against  the  tyr- 
anny of  its  rulers,  who  were  rioting  in  feasts, 


There  are  People  and  People.  5  9 

while  the  poor  people  were  ground  down  and 
starved.  But,  unfortunately,  from  listening  to 
false  teachers,  the  poor  people  went  to  such 
a  mad  extreme  that  the  whole  nation  was 
deluded  in  rivers  of  blood,  and  the  whole  world 

o 

was  set  in  a  blaze  of  indignation  and  dismay. 
Law  and  order  in  that  nation  were  hooted 
down.  Sunday,  and  all  Sunday  observances 
were  trampled  under  foot,  as  they  impeded  what 
was  called  the  growth  of  Reason.  This  deity 
— for  they  made  a  goddess  of  the  thing  they 
called  Reason,  which  had  been  nursed  into  life 
by  the  false  teachers  and  the  too  apt  pupils — was 
honored  with  altars,  on  which  incense  was 
burned,  and  before  whose  shrine  torches  blazed 
night  and  day.  The  days  were  divided  into 
nine  working  days  (in  which  very  little  work 
was  done  except  cutting  off  people's  heads), 
and  every  tenth  day  was  proclaimed  a  holiday 
for  all  kinds  of  mad  revelry — a  holiday  of 
horrors.  At  last  when  the  poor  people  had 
feasted  on  blood  and  terror  long  enough,  they 
were  only  too  thankful  to  be  forced  back  into 
law  and  order  and  Sundays  and  churches  and 
church-going." 

"  A   very  terse    synopsis   of  the   '  Reign  of 


60  .     The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Terror,'  and  all  aimed  at  me — a  regular  coup  de 
foudre  hitting  the  heart  of  the  target.  I,  a 
rebel  to  discipline  and  church-going,  am  de- 
clared to  embody  the  whole  Jacobin  outbreak, 
guillotine  included.  Meekly,  therefore,  in  the 
language  called  slang — our  modern  classics  that 
I  love  so  well,— I  can  only  say :  '  Pile  up  the 
agony.'  '  I  acknowledge  the  corn.'  '  And 
Frank  accompanied  her  words  with  intonation 
of  voice  and  look  of  such  droll  resignation  that 
the  whole  crowd  of  girls,  including  Pella — 
always  her  antagonist — broke  into  a  peal  of 
irresistible  laughter. 

Breta  endeavored  to  preserve  a  decorously 
straight  face,  but  was  compelled  to  give  way  to 
laughter  with  the  rest.  Frank's  quick  eye 
noted  this  last  convert  to  her  power,  and  her 
face  settled  into  the  contented  expression  of  hav- 
ing won  a  highly  prized  victory. 

"  Mamma  tried  and  tried  to  break  Frank 
from  making  funny  faces,"  put  in  Nelly  Bowers, 
"  telling  her  it  was  n't  refined  and  lady-like, 
and  all  that.  She  told  her  that  she  might  as 
well  turn  circus  clown  and  done  with  it, — and 
that  the  height  of  her  ambition  was  to  make 
fools  laugh.  I  always  noticed,  though,  that 


There  are  People  and  People.  61 

mamma  could  never  finish  her  lecture  without 
ending  with  a  laugh  herself." 

"  Nell,  never  tell  tales  out  of  school.  But, 
allons\  to  return  to  our  mutton,"  resumed 
Frank.  "  As  the  Reign  of  Terror  could  be 
traced  back  to  the  false  teachers,  so,  all  we  board- 
ing-school victims  need  to  make  angels  of  us, 
are  teachers  who  have  sense  enough  not  to 
bulldoze  us  into  doing  our  duty.  Now  when 
I— " 

"Very  seditious  sentiments!"  piped  in  Pella. 
"  Angels,  indeed  !  and  bulldoze  too !  Just  as 
though  we  did  not  have  it  all  in  us  and  more 


o 

too. 


"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  know  you  believe  in  total  de- 
pravity of  infants  and  all  that  blue-nosed  bosh," 
returned  Frank,  her  black  eyes  flashing  disdain. 
"  Now  let  us  go  back  to  first  principles  Who 
taught  Eve — a  lady  who  was  altogether  good 
and  lovely — to  eat  apples — before  they  were 
made  into  pies, — but  the  false  teacher,  Satan  ?  " 

"  Eve  had  it  all  in  her ;  and  I  consider  it 
sacrilegious  to  call  her  a  lady,  just  as  though— 

"  Why,  Pella,  you  would  n't  call  her  a  gentle- 
man, would  you  ?  "  asked  Frank,  with  a  pre- 
tended simplicity  that  caused  a  laugh. 


62  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  As  though  she  were  like  any  one  else," 
continued  Pella  disdainfully.  "  But  she  had  it 
all  in  her  or  she  would  not  have  listened  to 
Satan,"  concluded  Pella,  with  spiteful  decision. 

"  Don't  believe  a  word  of  it.  Have  you 
nothing  to  say  in  defence  of  our  first  mother, 
Miss  Garnet  ?  Sail  in,  this  is  a  free  fight." 

"  Be  still,  Frank  !  You  sha'  n't  drag  my  Miss 
Breta  into  your  discussions,  as  you  call  them, 
with  Pella,"  exclaimed  little  Nelly  Bowers, 
throwing  her  arms  lovingly  around  Breta, 
starched  muslin  included.  "  You  know  you 
never  believe  a  word  you  are  saying,  Frank, 
and  only  talk  to  set  Pella  on." 

"  Miss  Breta  is  fully  able  to  defend  herself, 
Nell,"  piped  up  Pella.  "  Do  tell  us,  Miss  Breta, 
that  you  consider  Frank  has  entirely  the  wrong 
side  of  the  question.  And  then,  too,  any  one 
can  tell  her  she  has  been  indulging  in  very  trivi- 
al behavior  for  Sunday." 

With  a  sweet  serenity  of  manner  all  her  own, 
Breta  said  she  was  strongly  reminded  of  the 
fable  of  the  chameleon  ;  "which  ends,  as  you 
all  know,"  she  continued,  "  with  the  umpire's 
producing  a  specimen  of  that  saurian  that — by 
a  chance  always  occurring  in  stories — he  hap- 


There  are  People  and  People.  63 

pened  to  have  handy  in  his  pocket.  Whereby 
he  proved  two  things  :  The  difficulty  of  judg- 
ing from  appearances ;  and  that  a  conclusion 
may  be  both  right  and  wrong." 

"  Aimed  at  both  of  us,  Pella.  Our  folly 
might  have  been  answered  by  a  long,  bulldoz- 
ing moral  essay, — 

"  Frank  would  not  have  lived  the  night 
through,  if  she  had  not  gotten  in  her  favorite 
word  aofain,"  broke  in  Pella. 

o 

"  By  a  long,  bulldozing  moral  essay,"  continued 
Frank,  "that  would  have  tired  me  out  and  made 
me  determined  to  stick  to  my  own  opinion,  es- 
pecially if  a  wrong  one — which  it  generally  is. 
Now  when  I  leave  school  I  shall  set  up  a  model 
boarding-school  with  Miss  Garnet  at  the  head, 
—for  having  the  hunkiest  way  of  making  one 
in  love  with  duty  and  self-sacrifice  and  other 
disagreeable  things.  She  '11  turn  out  a  whole 

O  O 

raft  of  Martha  Washingtons,  Madame  de 
Staels— " 

"  Don't  you  think,  Miss  Breta,  as  a  prepara- 
tory step,  Frank  had  better  give  up  slang  ?  " 
asked  Pella  sweetly. 

"  Girls,"  said  Breta,  rising  with  a  smile  that, 
unmistakable  in  its  meaning,  was  the  embodi 


64  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

merit  of  sunshine,  "  Miss  Rutherford  intimated 
last  evening  that  she  intends  giving  us  the 
whole  of  one  day  this  week  for  a  picnic  to 
Rocky  Glen.  We  are  to  take  every  thing  to 
make  the  day  pleasant, — including  apple-pies." 
And,  with  a  significant  glance  at  Frank  that  re- 
mained tender  and  loving  in  spite  of  its  playful 
sarcasm,  Breta  left  the  room,  with  a  light,  easy 
grace  of  movement  that  Pella  Morton  had  been 
long  and  vainly  endeavoring  to  imitate. 

In  the  midst  of  the  general  satisfaction  at  the 
prospect  of  the  picnic,  Frank  exclaimed  : 

"  It  is  all  Breta  Garnet's  doing.  Miss  Ruther- 
ford will  grant  her  a  favor  she  would  not  to  the 
whole  school  combined." 

"  I  hope  Miss  Rutherford  will  not  fall  ill  in 
consequence,"  sneered  Miss  Rivers,  a  tall 
young  lady,  also  in  her  last  year,  and  undergo- 
ing the  finishing  process. 

"  I  am  sure,"  mildly  expostulated  pretty  Sadie 
Burrill,  "  Miss  Rutherford  is  much  more  lenient 
than — " 

"  Who  constituted  you  her  defender,  Sadie  ?  " 
snapped  Pella. 

"  Pella  means  that,  Sadie,"  said  Frank,  laugh- 
ing. "  Now  Breta  Garnet/'  continued  she, 


TJiere  are  People  and  People.  65 

"  who  is  so  different  from  every  one  else, — so 
superior — 

"  You  could  put  a  Miss  to  her  name  if  she 
is,"  again  snapped  Pella.  "  She  is  our  teacher 
in  singing  if  she  is  just  your  age  and  just  my 
age.  And  besides  she  is  a  great  prima  donna, 
if  she  is  here  teaching  singing.  /  always  call 
her  Miss  Breta,  although  she  is  no  older  than  I 
am,  and  proper  respect  demands— 

"  Proper  fiddlesticks  ! "  elegantly  broke  in 
Frank.  "  When  any  one  is  wonderful,"  she 
continued,  her  great  velvety  black  eyes  flash- 
ing, and  the  rich  coloring  of  her  face  growing 
more  vivid,  as  a  smile  full  of  playful  sarcasm 
curved  her  mouth,  "  we  do  not  not  say  Miss 
in  speaking  of  them.  Who  says  Miss  Lind,  or 
Miss  Arc,  or  Miss  Nightingale,  or  Miss  Patti  ? 
Is  n't  it  always  Jenny  Lind,  Joan  of  Arc,  Flor- 
ence Nightingale,  Adelina  Patti  ?  Now  Breta 
Garnet  is  wonderful  [Frank  grew  earnest].  She 
sings  as  divinely  as  Malibran — Papa  has  heard 
them  both,  and  he  knows — and  she  would  have 
made  as  great  a  name  if  she  had  only  kept  on. 
She  is  just  too  lovely  for  any  thing — even  to 
her  dress.  Which  one  of  us  could  have  a 
crowd  of  children  hanging  around  us,  as  she 


66  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

always  has,  and  keep  fit  to  be  seen  ?  They 
don't  phase  her  gown  "  ;  Frank  threw  a  glance 
over  at  Pella  and  repeated  :  "They  don't phaze 
her  gown.  I  think  she  inherits  the  gift  from 
Mrs.  Radcliffe's  heroines,  who  could  travel 
through  underground  passages,  and  be  confined 
in  dungeons,  and  then  come  out  shining  in 
snowy-white  costume,  ready  for  a  ball  or  a 
wedding." 

"  Nothing  so  marvellous  about  Miss  Breta's 
gown  to-day,  if  they  don't  phaze  it.  Phaze  in- 
deed! Real  India  mull  does  n't  crease,"  said 
Pella  loftily.  "  Though,  as  every  one  knows, 
Miss  Breta  is  a  young  lady  who  is  superior  in 
every  respect." 

"  Miss  Breta  does  every  thing  exquisitely. 
Frank  exaggerates  nothing  in  calling  her  won- 
derful, she  being  gifted  with  that  rare  thing 
— genius,"  said  pretty  Sadie  Burrill,  who,  be- 
sides being  a  very  pretty  young  lady,  a  year 
younger  than  Frank,  was  her  warmest  friend. 
"  And  then,  too,"  she  continued  in  her  pleasant 
voice,  "  Miss  Breta  Garnet  has  been  thoroughly 
educated.  And  as  for  her  dress — why,  in  Paris 
and  Milan,  where  she  has  spent  so  many  years 
of  her  life,  well, — in  Italy  dress  is  one  of  the 


There  are  People  and  People.  67 

Fine  Arts,  and  in  Paris  it  is  one  of  the  Posi- 
tive Sciences." 

"  There  are  people  and  people,"  exclaimed 
Frank  Bowers,  giving  Sadie  a  bright,  apprecia- 
tive look ;  "  people  with  their  dogmas  that 
offer  premiums  on  deception  (I  lay  the  whole 
of  this  apple-pie  shindy  on  the  Rutherford 
shoulders,  and  sha'  n't  flunk  out  now  I  am  in 
for  it) ;  and  then  there  are  people  who  give  you 
better  impulses  and  make  you  ashamed  of 
every  thing  that  is  not  as  good  and  pure  as 
themselves.  I  know  only  one  such,  and  she 
has  just  gone  out  of  the  room  in  a  cloud  of 
white  muslin,  lacking  wings  only  to  make  her 
an  angel." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  declaimed  Pella  Morton. 

"  She  puts  you  in  mind  of  the  Mona  Lisa  ; 
Papa  brought  a  rare  copy  from  Italy,  for  which 
he  gave  a  fabulous  sum.  She  has  the  same 
tender,  mellow  eyes,  and  charm  of  face,  that 
looks  as  though  ,c.he  went  showering  down 
apple  blossoms,  cool  and  fragrant  upon  the — 

"  Hear  !  hear  !  "  broke  in  Pella  again,  with  a 
shrill  little  lauo-h. 

O 

But  there  was  no  chance  to  hear,  for  the  din 
of  the  breakfast  bell  started  into  activity  the 


68  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

patter  and  clatter  of  the  various-sized  feet, — the 
half-repentant  Frank  Bowers  being  left  with 
only  one  of  her  proselytes,  the  other  having 
deserted  her  standard. 

"  We  shall  kill  ourselves,  Sadie,"  said  she  dis- 
mally to  her  ally.  "  You  will  have  to  go  one 
half  the  pie,  I  the  other.  They  will  range  our 
tombstones  side  by  side,  with  the  sacred  and 
appropriate,  if  ungrammatical,  inscription  on 
them  of  the  Latin  words :  ' Pi-et-as-beat-um?  " 


V. 

"DO    HURRY    ON." 

ALL  the  church  bells  of  the  village  were  ring- 
ing, and  Miss  Marcia  Rutherford — tow- 
ering above  her  sex,  like  the  Roman  Marcia — 
was  out  upon  the  lawn  in  front  of  her  seminary, 
surrounded  by  her  pupils,  who,  with  their  fair, 
fresh  faces,  and  in  their  pretty  summer  dresses, 
looked  like  a  flock  of  milk-white  doves  ready 
for  ?.  flight ;  Miss  Rutherford  herself  appearing 
like  a  well-disposed  royal  eagle,  who,  instead  of 
eating  up  all  the  doves  at  a  meal,  was  peacefully 
marshalling  them  into  marching  order. 

Miss  Rutherford's  Seminary — like  herself, 
lofty  and  imposing  in  appearance — was  situ- 
ated on  an  elevation  of  ground  at  the  edge  of 
the  village  and  overlooking  it.  At  the  back, 
and  on  each  side  of  the  school-buildings,  was  a 
grove  of  magnificent  trees,  among  which,  con- 
spicuous, was  the  Northern  species  of  the 

69 


;o  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

giant  magnolia,  with  its  stiff,  inodorous  yel- 
low blossoms,  known  as  the  tulip  or  cucumber 
tree. 

A  long,  straight  row  of  Lombardy  poplars, 
ranged  at  measured  distances  along  the  entire 
front  of  the  lawn,  before  the  seminary,  gave 
it  a  military,  well-guarded  appearance. 

Miss  Rutherford,  liberal  in  all  things  consist- 
ent with  her  position  as  head  of  a  young  ladies' 
academy,  permitted  her  pupils  to  worship  at 
various  churches,  in  accordance  with  the  tenets 
of  their  parents  ;  insisting  only  in  giving  in 
command  at  least  one  teacher  to  each  division 
of  pupils,  as  young  ladies  of  boarding-schools 
are  not  proverbial  for  sedateness. 

Forsaking  the  dusty  road,  their  way  to  the 
village,  by  a  short  cut,  lay  through  a  shady 
lane,  and  then  across  a  short  strip  of  meadow, 
along  the  banks  of  a  stream  margined  by  wil- 
lows,— in  all  less  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 

The  school  procession  was  always  a  pretty 
sight  as  it  entered  the  village  ;  teachers  and  pu- 
pils filing  off  so  orderly  to  their  respective 
churches,  Miss  Rutherford  heading  the  largest 
division,  mild  Miss  Amanda  (Miss  Rutherford's 
sister)  the  next,  and  so  on,  down  to  the  two  who 


"Do  Hurry  On."  71 

accompanied  Breta  to  the  Gothic  Episcopal 
Church. 

Breta,  on  this  day,  proceeded  to  her  church 
alone,  Frank  and  Sadie  beincr  victims  to  the 

o 

Sunday  headache  Miss  Rutherford  did  not 
deem  it  prudent  to  gainsay. 

In  the  picturesque  little  church-yard,  fragrant 
with  vines  and  roses,  Breta  passed  a  number  of 
people,  all  of  whom  greeted  her  effusively  ; 
for,  with  her  beautiful  voice  and  sweet  face,  she 
was  everywhere  a  favorite. 

Going  up  the  aisle  to  the  choir,  which  was 
built  down  on  the  floor  of  the  church,  in  the  en- 
closure to  the  right  of  the  chancel,  Breta  found 
her  uncle  seated  at  the  orcjan,  awaiting  the  last 

o  o 

toll  of  the  bell  to  commence  his  voluntary. 

He  leaned  over  toward  her  as  she  took  her 
usual  seat  near  him,  and  asked  in  undertone 
why  Miss  Bowers  and  Miss  Burrill  were  not 
with  her. 

"  They  stayed  at  home  to  eat  apple-pie,"  re- 
plied Breta,  in  the  same  sotto  voce. 

Mr.  Whyte,  quite  mystified  for  a  moment, 
then  made  it  apparent,  by  one  of  his  twisted 
smiles,  that  he  had  taken  the  situation  in. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  whispered  he,  "  not  to  have 


72  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Miss  Bovvers'  contralto,  as  I  invited  Mr.  de  Grey 
to  hear  the  music.  That  is  he  on  the  last  of  the 
choir  seats.  A  wonderfully  fine  face  has  he 
not  ?  He  arrived  at  the  old  place  last  even- 
ing. My  dear,  as  Miss  Bowers  is  not  here  you 
cannot  sing  the  Quis  est  Homo;  the  Stabat 
Mater  will  have  to  wait.  You  must  sing  a  solo 
instead, — '  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.' ' 

"  Any  thing  you  please,  Uncle  Ray,  dear,  but 
don't  let  us  talk  any  more,  people  are  beginning 
to  look  this  way." 

Little  Mr.  Whyte,  taking  a  modest  survey 
around  the  church,  with  the  fresh,  innocent  way 
he  had,  that  made  him  always  young,  began 
softly  turning  over  the  loose  music  scores  that 
were  lying  on  the  top  of  the  upper  manual, 
one  of  which  he  handed  to  Breta. 

Breta  fastened  her  eyes  determinedly  on  the 
score,  having  found  them,  in  spite  of  herself, 
attracted  in  the  direction  of  de  Grey. 

"  Uncle  Ray  is  right,  he  has  a  wonderfully 
fine  face,"  thought  she,  much  as  though  having 
contemplated  a  rare  picture.  "  A  face  altogether 
expressive  of  never  having  entertained  one  ig- 
noble thought,  and  he  does  not  look  in  the  least 
like  one  addicted  to — ghosts." 


"Do  Hurry  On."  73 

Unconscious  of  Breta's  scrutiny,  de  Grey  sat 
looking  toward  the  church  entrance,  seemingly 
taking  mental  notes  of  the  incomers  as  they 
entered  their  pews,  his  bearing  indicating  a 
person  of  refinement  and  culture.  His  forehead 
was  broad  ;  his  chin  well  defined,  cleft  and  clean- 
cut,  denoting  resolution  and  courage  ;  with 
large  steadfast  eyes  that  had  a  dreamy  look  in 
them,  his  mouth  gave  promise  of  a  warm, 
genial,  mirth-loving  nature.  He  had  the  dark 
hair  and  eyes,  and  the  clear  olive  complexion 
that  pronounced  him  a  descendant  of  the  Nor- 
man, rather  than  the  Saxon  race. 

"  He  is  an  entirely  new  type,"  mused  Breta, 
who,  with  another  glance  at  his  still  averted 
face,  resolutely  determined  to  look  no  more. 
"  As  handsome  as  the  Count  Buonarotti  (the 
handsomest  man  I  ever  saw),  this  de  Grey  has 
a  look  of  having  more  to  him  than  any  one  I 
ever  met, — more  capacity  for  comprehending 
every  thing,  or  for  suffering,  or  enjoying.  His 
face,  with  all  its  brightness  is  instinct  with 
sadness, — the  sadness  one  sees  in  the  pictures 
of  those  old  martyrs,  the  same  indescribable 
sadness  one  hears  in  the  undertone  of  all  beau- 
tiful music,  that  underlies  a11  most  grand  in 


74  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

nature, — a  sadness  as  terrible  as  it  is  undefina- 
ble ;  one  feels  it.  And  yet  he  does  not  look  like 
a  melancholy  person  in  the  least,  but  as  though 
it  came  from  the  perfect,  the  rounded-out  har- 
mony of  a  nature  that — " 

Here  the  organ  rolled  in  on  Breta's  analyti- 
cal musings,  arousing  her  to  a  sense  of  her  sur- 
roundings. The  services  had  commenced,  and 
the  choir  were  doing  wonders,  in  spite  of  the 
absence  of  the  leading  contralto.  They  had 
been  well  drilled  by  the  conscientious  Mr. 
Whyte,  and  the  music  was  well  chosen. 

It  was  during  the  Venite  Exultimus  that 
Breta,  seeing  de  Grey's  hands  held  no  prayer- 
book, — she  did  not  lift  her  eyes  to  his  face, — 
asked  Mr.  Blitson,  the  tenor,  in  a  whisper,  at 
the  last  chord  of  the  amen,  to  hand  him  one. 

Mr.  Blitson,  with  a  bow  of  assent,  handed  the 
book  to  a  pretty  young  lady  who  had  come 
with  Mrs.  Strong,  the  second  soprano  ;  she  ac- 
cepting it  with  a  brilliant  blush. 

Taking  another  book  from  the  rack,  Breta. 
not  to  be  balked  in  her  charitable  purpose,  ad- 
vanced toward  de  Grey,  while  the  choir  were 
in  the  rustle  of  taking  their  seats.  Half  rising, 
de  Grey,  in  the  easiest  manner  possible,  reached 


"Do  Hurry  On.''  7 5 

out  his  hand  for  the  book,  which  was  not  a 
small  one,  and  was  metal-clasped  and  metal- 
cornered,  and,  just  as  his  fingers  touched  it,  it 
fell  to  the  floor  with  a  clang. 

As  Breta  instinctively  stooped  to  pick  it  up, 
a  hand  was  before  her, — a  hand  large  and 
shapely,  that  securely  grasped  the  book.  As 
hurriedly  as  she  had  stooped,  she  arose  again  ; 
her  head  coming  in  contact  with  a  hard,  unyield- 
ing substance  that  could  only  be  de  Grey's 
head. 

Almost  blinded  with  the  tears  forced  from 
her  eyes  by  the  concussion,  Breta  cast  a  hasty 
glance,  not  at  de  Grey,  but  around  the  church, 
through  the  millions  of  stars  that  danced  before 
her  eyes,  as  she  retreated  to  her  seat.  But 
she  could  not  see  that  any  one  had  observed 
any  thing  unusual.  No  one  seemed  to  be  at- 
tempting to  conceal  behind  handkerchiefs  or 
fans  the  smiles  that  must  not  be  openly  seen  in 
church. 

This  was  a  solace  to  her  wounded  head,  to 
which  she  now  stealthily  raised  her  hand,  find- 
ing to  her  satisfaction  that  the  new  bump  lay 
securely  hidden  under  the  fluffy  waves  of  her 
abundant  hair. 


76  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt.  • 

Breta  sane  her  solo  with  all  her  accustomed 

o 

maestria ;  with  tones  pure,  just,  and  well  sus- 
tained ;  and  with  accents  that  showed  that  the 
composition  of  the  great  composer  was  not  only 
.rendered  with  musical  exactness,  from  con- 
scientious and  intelligent  study,  but  that  it 
came,  as  well,  from  the  singer's  heart,  as 
though  it  might  have  been  an  improvisation  of 
her  own. 

It  was  not  until  she  had  finished  singing  that, 
feeling  her  eyes  attracted  to  a  certain  point, 
Breta  looked  past  the  many  strangers  (there 
were  always  a  number  of  strangers  at  church, 
mostly  from  New  York,  attracted  by  the  sing- 
ing) to  the  right  side  of  the  nave,  a  little  back, 
and  encountered  the  eyes  of  Noel  Dunraven 
fastened  upon  her. 

His  being  in  church  was  not  an  unusual  cir- 
cumstance, for  during  the  three  years  that 
Breta  had  been  at  Miss  Rutherford's  he  was 
accustomed  to  spend  most  of  his  Sundays  at 
Lea  ;  to  hear  his  cousin  Breta  sing,  as  he  said. 
But  the  expression  in  his  blue  eyes  was  a  new 
one  to  Breta,  well  acquainted  as  she  was  with 
all  the  looks  she  had  seen  his  eyes  wear  ;  and 
it  not  only  puzzled,  but  troubled  her. 


"Do  Hurry  On,"  77 

He  had  been  watching  her  from  the  first ; 
that  she  understood.  He  had  seen  all  that  had 
occurred,  her  confusion  and  distress  (so  well 
concealed  from  others),  noting  it  all  critically, 
not  sympathetically ;  that  she  also  understood. 
What  she  did  not  understand  was  the  odd 
shade,  something  cold,  almost  cruel,  that  had 
crept  into  his  eyes  ;  and  at  intervals,  during  the 
rest  of  the  service,  her  glance  reverted  uncon- 
sciously to  him,  and  always  to  meet  the  same 
watchful  look. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Whyte,  when  they  were 
out  on  the  green  before  the  church,  "  your 
tones  in  that  inspiration  of  Handel's  actually 
moved  me  to  tears.  However  much  I  may  get 
mixed  up  on  ghosts,  I  never  do  in  music  ;  and  I 
declare,  as  I  have  many  times  before,  you  have 
the  divine  gift  of  song." 

"  It  is  a  source  of  great  consolation  to  me  to 
be  able  to  cause  you  to  shed  tears,"  returned 
Breta,  mischievously.  "  But  let  us  hurry  on 
Uncle  Ray,  dear." 

In  coming  out  of  church  Breta  had  observed 
that  Dunraven,  contrary  to  his  wont,  had  not 
joined  them  ;  but  she  forgot  to  consider  on  the 
strangeness  of  it  in  her  dread  of  encountering 


78  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

de  Grey,  to  whom  her  eyes  had  not  once 
glanced  since  the  dropping  of  the  book,  and  its 
consequences.  And  again  she  urged  her  uncle 
to  haste. 

"  I  was  rather  loitering,  my  dear,"  replied  he, 
"  on  de  Grey's  account,  as  I  wish  to  make  you 
acquainted  with  him,  for  he  is  an  advent  in  this 
world  of  puerilities.  As  much  so  as  even  the 
immortal  Handel's  music." 

"  Do  not  let  him  hear  you,  Uncle  Ray," 
urged  Breta  in  a  low  voice,  as  she  hurried  on. 

"  He  is  back  in  the  church-yard  still,  looking 
at  the  inscriptions  on  the  tombs ;  but  when  he 
overtakes  us— 

"  Which  I  trust  will  not  be.  Let  us  walk 
faster,  Miss  Rutherford  will  be  waiting  I  am 
cer — " 

"  Why,  my  dear  !  "  broke  in  Mr.  Whyte,  ex- 
amining his  niece's  flushed  face  in  astonish- 
ment. "What  has  de  Grey  done  that  you 
should  wish  to  avoid  him?  I  saw  you  hand 
him  a  book  in  the  first  part  of  the  service." 

"  Oh,  don't,  Uncle  Ray,  dear,  but  do  come 
on,"  exclaimed  Breta,  desperately. 

"  Oh,  certainly,  my  dear,"  acquiesced  Mr. 
Whyte,  who,  unable  to  fathom  the  subtleties  of 


"Do  Hurry  On"  79 

a  young  lady's  motive  of  action  long  since, 
gave  up  the  conundrum  in  the  present  instance, 
and  trotted  nimbly  beside  his  niece,  asking  her, 
with  one  of  his  twisted  smiles,  if  she  thought  of 
practising  for  a  walking  match. 

"  Uncle  Ray,"  was  Breta's  reply,  as  she  still 
hastened  forward,  "  you  must  hold  yourself  in 
readiness  to  attend  our  picnic  ;  all  the  grandees 
of  Lea  are  invited." 

Mr.  Whyte,  accepting  the  change  of  subject, 
made  some  cheerful  remarks  about  the  picnic, 
and  then  wondered  where  Noel  could  have 
strolled  to  ;  asking  Breta  if  she  had  not  noticed 
him  in  church. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  him,"  replied  Breta,  the  un- 
wonted look  in  his  eyes  again  recurring  to  her, 
but  for  an  instant  only,  she  being  occupied 
with  another  troubling  subject — for,  hearing 
footsteps,  she  felt  certain  that  de  Grey  was  just 
back  of  them  and  was  gaining  upon  them,  and 
the  bump  loomed  up  in  her  mind  again  as  promi- 
nently as  it  stood  on  her  head,  concealed  in 
the  fluff  of  her  hair. 

"  If  he  should  have  a  similar  one,  with  no 
bang  to  hide  it,"  irreverently  thought  she, 
"  on  the  organ  of  causality  perhaps  !  "  It  was 


8o  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

not  to  be  thought  of,  and  yet  she  continued  to 
let  her  thought  feast  upon  the  harrowing  idea. 

She  turned  several  shades  paler  as  she 
looked  up  to  acknowledge  de  Grey's  salutation, 
as,  joining  them,  with  no  show  of  haste,  he  was 
introduced  to  her  by  Mr.  Whyte  with  the 
courtly  air  of  an  old-time  gentleman. 

Meeting  only  a  respectful  bow  from  de 
Grey,  his  brow  as  smooth  as  alabaster,  his 
look  calm  to  serenity, — a  look  so  utterly  igno- 
ring the  bumps  of  this  bumping  world  that 
Breta,  mentally  recording  him  as  one  posses- 
sing the  soul  of  a  true  gentleman,  felt  all  her 
nervous  apprehensions  dissipated  as  by  magic  ; 
and  she  chatted  freely  with  him  until  they  came 
to  the  neat  little  village  park  where  Miss  Ruth- 
erford's teachers  and  pupils  were  accustomed  to 
re-assemble. 

There,  beside  Miss  Rutherford,  his  tall  form 
conspicuous  far  above  her  tall  form,  stood  Dun- 
raven  in  a  magnificent  attitude,  the  evident  ad- 
miration of  her  pupils. 

He  was  conversing  with  Miss  Rutherford 
with  his  customary  grace  and  savoir-vivre  ; 
and  when  Breta,  her  uncle,  and  de  Grey  joined 
them,  his  bow  to  Breta  and  his  distinguished 


"Do  Hurry  On."  Si 

manner  in  recognizing  his  uncle's  presentation 
to  him  of  de  Grey,  threw  the  quiet,  unassuming 
de  Grey  entirely  into  the  shade  in  the  opinion 
of  most  of  the  fair  pupils,  who,  sitting  on  the 
park  benches,  or  standing  in  groups,  were 
awaiting  the  last  of  their  number. 

o 

"  Is  n't  he  a  love  ?  "  whispered  Miss  Beebe 
to  Miss  Rivers. 

"  Which  he  ?  "  asked  Miss  Rivers. 

"Why,  Mr.  Dunraven,  of  course.  Such  dis- 
tinguished manners  !  Such  a  bearing — so  very 
tall  and  elegant !  Oh,  he  's  just  too  lovely  for 
any  thing." 

"  I  have  heard  you  make  that  same  remark, 
Lina  Beebe,  nearly  every  Sunday  for  three 
years,"  returned  Miss  Rivers,  scornfully.  "  For 
my  part,"  she  added,  "  I  think  Mr.  de  Grey  is 
handsomer  by  far,  just  tall  enough," — she  was 
tall  herself.  •  "  He  is  what  I  call  quietly  ele- 
gant." 

Meanwhile,  the  subjects  of  this  and  similar 
snatches  of  conversation  were  making  them- 
selves agreeable.  Dunraven,  who,  after  a  few 
words  to  Breta,  finding  her  occupied  with  de 
Grey,  having  turned  to  Miss  Amanda  Ruther- 
ford, was  entertaining  her  with  an  account  of 


82  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

some  Congressional  doings  during  his  late  visit 
to  Washington";  at  the  same  time  keeping  his 
blue  eyes  on  Breta. 

Miss  Rutherford,  after  several  civil  speeches 
to  de  Grey,  seated  herself,  and  began  discus- 
sing some  sacred  music  with  Mr.  Whyte,  in 
view  to  her  semi-monthly  musicale. 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  what  pleasure  your  singing 
gave  me  to-day,  Miss  Garnet,"  said  de  Grey. 

Everybody  had  always  gone  in  raptures  over 
Breta's  singing,  but  there  was  that  in  de  Grey's 
tone,  so  full  of  an  underlying  power,  causing 
his  words  to  sound  so  little  like  a  commonplace 
compliment,  that  she  felt  singularly  stirred  by 
them. 

"  I  was  prepared  by  what  Mr.  Black  told  me, 
— he  heard  you  sing  in  Milan,  Miss  Garnet," — 
continued  de  Grey,  "  and  also  by  what  your  un- 
cle said,  to  hear — a  remarkable  voice.  But  I 
was  in  nowise  prepared  for — for  just  what  I 
heard,  so  excelling  every  thing  I  ever  thought 
possible  in  singing." 

Again  it  was  the  single-hearted  candor  of 
tone  that  made  the  words  seem  so  sienificant, 

o 

and  so  difficult  to  respond  to.  Breta  was  spared 
the  necessity  of  reply  further  than  the  inclina- 


"Do  Hurry  On"  83 

tion  of  head  and  little  smile  she  had  given  him, 
as  the  expected  pupils  came  up  and  Miss 
Rutherford  started  the  procession  in  motion. 

Mr.  Whyte  and  de  Grey  bowed  their  leave  ; 
but  Dunraven  walked  on  with  Breta  and  Miss 
Rutherford,  punctiliously  taking  the  side  of  the 
latter. 

Arriving  at  the  seminary,  Dunraven  chatted 
a  few  moments,  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Ruther- 
ford, with  those  of  the  young  ladies  to  whom  he 
had  been  introduced  at  her  musicales,  thereby 
causing  a  severe  fluttering  of  Miss  Beebe's  very 
admiring  heart. 

Later  on,  finding  himself  alone  with  Breta,  in 
the  seminary  parlor,  he  compelled  silent  admira- 
tion from  her  with  his  brilliant  description  of 
his  Washington  visit.  He  confined  himself  so 
exclusively  to  generalities  that  she  was  conver- 
sing unreservedly  with  him  until,  rising,  he 
walked  across  the  stately  parlor  and  stood  be- 
fore the  grim  portrait  of  a  Rutherford  ancestor, 
for  a  moment. 

"  Breta,"  said  he,  returning  and  seating  him- 
self beside  her  in  elegant  pose,  "  either  I  am 
the  most  patient,  long-suffering  man  in  the 
world,  or  you  the  most  charming  woman.  I 


84  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

am  persuaded  both  are  true  :  I,  the  only  man 
in  the  universe  whose  love  would  not  have  died 
a  natural  death  years  ago — for  how  can  love 
live  with  nothing  to  feed  upon  ?  And  that  you 
are  the  most  charming  of  your  sex  goes  without 
saying,  for,  before  the  vividness  of  your  beauty 
all  other  beautiful  faces  near  you  grow  dim. 
And  notwithstanding  all  your  friendly  coldness 
and  cruelty  to  me  I  love  you  more  this  day  than 
ever  before, — and  my  whole  life  has  been  one 
long  dream  of  love  for  you." 

"  Did  you  compose  that,  Noel,  as  you  stood 
before  Miss  Rutherford's  grandfather  ?  "  asked 
Breta,  with  keen  irony  of  tone. 

"  I  can  wait  as  long  as  Jacob — that  other 
long-suffering  man,"  continued  Dunraven,  as 
though  Breta  had  not  spoken.  "  But  I  must 
have  my  Rachel  in  the  end.  There !  Do  not 
reply,  Breta,  cugina  mia.  There  is  no  call  for  a 
reply." 

Breta  had  stirred  and  had  lifted  her  face 
again.  It  was  very  pale,  and  there  was  a  cold, 
unresponsive  look  in  her  eyes  that  visibly 
affected  Dunraven,  and  he  made  haste  to  add, 
with  a  light  laugh  : 

"  Recollect,  you  have  not  refused  me,  Breta. 


"Do  Hurry  On"  85 

Excuse  me,  but  do  not  say  a  word,  I  entreat." 
Breta,  raising  her  calm  eyes  and  resting  them 
full  upon  his  face,  had  parted  her  lips  and  drawn 
her  breath  as  though  about  to  speak. 

"  Much  as  I  love  the  sound  of  your  sweet 
voice,  cugina  mm,  I  do  not  care  to  hear  it  now. 
I  can  get  along  quite  well  without — a  mitten," 
continued  he,  with  an  easy  lightness  of  tone 
and  a  light  laugh.  "  I  go,  as  heretofore,  with 
the  benefit  of  a  doubt  to — cheer  me."  And 
with  this  little  parting  jibe,  Dunraven,  rising, 
extended  his  hand  to  Breta,  and  taking  hers, 
carried  it  to  his  lips  in  foreign  fashion,  and 
gracefully  bowed  himself  out  of  the  room. 


VI. 

IN    THE    FOREST-GLOAMING. 

"  "\7OLJ  must  give  no  lessons  this  afternoon 
JL  Miss  Garnet,"  said  Miss  Rutherford  the 
next  day  after  dinner.  "  You  are  looking  pale, 
and  I  see  you  have  eaten  almost  nothing  since 
yesterday.  The  sun  evidently  was  too  much 
for  you." 

"  The  two  sons  were  too  much  for  me," 
parenthetically  thought  Breta. 

"  The  philosopher  has  not  written,"  contin- 
ued Miss  Rutherford,  "  who  has  explained  why 
our  hottest  days  come  on  Sunday.  By  the  way, 
my  dear,  I  invited  Mr.  Dunraven  to  our  picnic. 
He  is  an  uncommonly  fine  young  man,  of  whom 
any  one  may  well  be  proud.  I  was  never  more 
impressed  by  his  bearing  than  I  was  yesterday." 

Left  to  herself,  with  the  afternoon  before  her, 
Breta  sought  the  rest  she  certainly  so  much 
needed,  in  the  shade  of  the  woods.  And  never 

86 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  87 

before  had  she  so  well  understood  the  meaning 
of  the  sermon  preached  by  bird,  bee,  blossom, 
and  running  water. 

o 

She  sat  on  the  mossy  bank,  watching  the 
dace  and  minnow  dart  and  glide,  and  now  and 
then  a  speckled  trout  rise  suddenly  up  through 
the  clear  water,  in  which  the  feathery  blue  gen- 
tian and  delicately  articulated  brake  were  mir- 
rored. Or,  reclining  against  some  giant  tree, 
that  had  stood  in  stately  grandeur  for  ages,  she 
watched  the  flickering  lights  and  shadows 
through  its  branches,  and  the  time  passed  lazily 
and  refreshingly  by. 

"  I  will  wait  until  that  splendid  brown  thrash- 
er is  through  his  song,  and  then  I  will  go," 
thought  she. 

o 

The  thrush  and  she  were  both  startled  by  a 
crunching  of  dead  twigs,  and  looking  around 
she  beheld  a  huge  Newfoundland  dog  coming 
rapidly  toward  her. 

Rising  to  her  feet  she  saw  the  dog  came  with 
no  hostile  intent,  but  in  imperative  supplication, 
as  he  looked  at  her  with  praeter- canine,  almost 
human  eyes  of  entreaty,  slowly  wagging  his 
great  bushy  tail,  and  gently  pulling  at  the  skirt 
of  her  dress. 


88  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Following  the  dog's  lead  into  a  bridle-path, 
a  turn  in  the  path  revealed  a  sight  that  made 
Breta's  heart  stand  still. 

"  Is  he  dead  ?  "  she  ejaculated.  But  there 
was  no  one  to  reply  but  the  dog,  and  he  seemed 
to  be  asking  the  same  question. 

After  a  moment  of  almost  paralyzed  terror 
Breta  stooped  down  and  interrogated  first  the 
wrist,  then  the  heart  of  the  apparently  breath- 
less form  prone  on  the  leafy  ground, — the  form 
of  the  very  one  of  whom  she  had  been  thinking 
while  listening  to  the  lay  of  the  brown  thrasher, 
— and  to  her  inexpressible  relief,  beneath  her 
own  pulsing  fingers  she  felt  the  slow  beats  of  an 
almost  extinguished  life. 

"  Water!  "  she  exclaimed,  rising  quickly  to  her 
feet.  "  What  can  I  find  that  will  hold  water  ?  " 

Solemnly  and  appealingly  the  great  dog,  with 
his  honest  brown  eyes,  looked  into  her  face, 
and  then  went  on  licking  his  master's  hands. 

Breta  caught  some  leaves  from  the  bough 
of  a  tree,  and  crowding  them  flat  -wise  into  her 
straw  hat,  and  holding  them  down  tightly  with 
her  hand,  she  managed  to  bring  from  the  stream 
close  by  sufficient  water  to  drench  his  face  and 
hair. 


In  tke  Forest- Gloaming.  89 

This  she  repeated  again  and  again,  stopping 
only  to  chafe  his  hands  and  face, — the  dog  look- 
ing on  intently,  with  every  now  and  then  a  low 
whine, — until  at  last  the  object  of  her  solicitous 
efforts  opened  his  eyes. 

"Thank  heaven,  Mr.  de  Grey,  you  have 
come  to ! "  fervently  ejaculated  Breta,  with  a 
great  sigh  of  relief.  "  I  thought  you  never 
would  revive." 

"  You,  Miss  Garnet!"  and  de  Grey,  rising  to 
a  sitting  posture,  repeated  :  "  You,  Miss  Gar- 
net !  Please  tell  me  what  it  means.  I  do  not 
seem  to  recollect  myself." 

"  You  have  been  thrown  from  your  horse, 
Mr.  de  Grey — I  see  him  standing  there, — and 
your  head  struck  on  that  piece  of  rock,"  said 
Breta,  stooping  down  to  examine  the  spot  where 
his  head  had  been.  "  It  is  a  smoothly-worn 
stone  embedded  in  the  moss,  or  otherwise  it 
might  have  cut  your  head  severely."  And 
Breta  passed  her  little  ungloved  hand  softly 
over  the  mossy  stone  again.  "  I  was  in  the 
woods  close  by,"  continued  she,  replying  to  his 
still  asking  eyes,  "  and  your  dog  found  me  and 
brought  me  to  you.  Tell  me,  if  you  can,  what 
I  shall  do  for  you.  Shall  I  go  for  a  physician  ?  " 


9O  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  I  think,  Miss  Garnet,"  returned  he,  "  you 
have  proved  yourself  the  best  physician  I  could 
have  had,  and  my  opinion  is  you  have  saved  my 
life.  Let  me  see  what  I  can  do  to  help  myself 
before  accepting-  your  solicitous  offer.  You  look 
pale.  I  am  sorry  to  have  been  the  occasion  of 
such  a  fright  to  you.  My  worst  injury  is  a  large 
protuberance  near  the  back  of  my  head."  De 
Grey,  speaking  very  lightly  to  make  light  of  his 
hurt,  was  now  standing  on  his  feet,  his  hand  on 
that  part  of  his  head  where  phrenologists  locate 
caution. 

In  the  midst  of  her  apprehensions  for  him, 
Breta  felt  herself  flushing,  as,  with  dismay,  she 
mentally  exclaimed  :  "  Another  new  bump  !  " 

Instantly  accusing  herself  of  lightness  and  in- 
considerateness,  and  feeling  fearful  he  was  not 
so  far  recovered  as  he  wished  to  make  it  seem, 
Breta  insistingly  proposed  going  to  Elmwood, 
near  at  hand,  to  fetch  her  uncle. 

"  If,  Miss  Garnet,"  replied  de  Grey,  leaning 
against  the  trunk  of  a  tree  and  looking  fright- 
fully pale,  "  you  could  bring  me  a  draught  of 
water  from  'the  same  source  with  which  you  so 
mercifully  and  bountifully  baptized  my  face,  I 
think  I  could  manage  to  get  home.  I  find  this 
dizziness  still  hangs  over  me." 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  91 

"  Most  gladly.  But  I  have  only  my  hat." 
And  she  held  it  up  all  dripping. 

"  Hold!  I  have  a  leathern  drinking-cup  in 
my  pocket.  You  are,  then,  the  veritable  Un- 
dine I  thought  you  when  I  opened  my  eyes  and 
beheld  you  in  the  forest-gloaming  through  glis- 
tening water-drops  ?  I  saw  Herr  Adrian  cook 
eggs  in  a  felt  hat ;  but  I  doubt  if  even  his  necro- 
mancy could  make  a  little  straw-hat  hold  water," 
said  de  Grey,  as  he  handed  her  the  cup. 

When  she  returned  with  it  filled,  de  Grey 
was  sitting  on  a  fallen  log,  looking  still  very 
pale,  and  he  again  regretted  the  trouble  he  was 
giving  her. 

"  I  beg  you  not  to  speak  in  that  way,  Mr.  de 
Grey.  I  would  walk  leagues  to — Mr.  de  Grey 
you  are  looking  alarmingly  pale."  And  as 
Breta  relinquished  to  his  grasp  the  yielding 
leathern  cup,  so  difficult  to  manage,  her  soft, 
warm  fingers  were  accidentally  clasped  for  an 
instant  by  his  hand. 

Breta  in  that  instant  felt  the  blood  from  her 
heart  rush  to  her  fingers'  ends  and  glow  in  her 
cheeks  ;  and  de  Grey,  as  he  drank  the  water, 
declared  himself  wonderfully  revived. 

"And  no  marvel,"  added  he,  "that  water, 


02  The  -Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

being  furnished  you  by  your  Uncle  Kiihleborn, 
was  enchanted,  having  oreat  magnetic  virtue  in 

O     O  O 

it.     I  feel  now  quite  able  to  walk." 

Giving  no  hint  of  his  consciousness  that  the 

^ 

enchantment  lay  in  the  touch  of  her  magnetic 
fingers,  de  Grey  again  assured  Breta  he  was 
well  enough  to  walk.  Her  confusion  gone, 
she  was  able  to  meet  his  eyes,  and  proposed 
accompanying  him  to  Elmwood. 

"  Uncle  Ray  will  be  only  too  glad  to  drive 
me  home  again,"  urged  she,  "  and  I  am  really 
too  terrified  to  think  of  your  going  alone." 

"  Your  kindness  is  only  exceeded  by  my 
gratitude,  Miss  Garnet,"  returned  de  Grey. 

"  And  you  will  ride,"  said  Breta,  smiling  at 
his  words.  "  I  am  quite  used  to  horses  and  can 
readily  catch  yours  and  bring  him  to  you,  Mr. 
de  Grey." 

"  I  will  walk  if  you  will  permit  me,  Miss  Gar- 
net ;  Selim  will  come  to  my  call  and  follow  like 
a  do£." 

o 

As  they  moved  on,  the  horse  appearing  quite 
dejected,  the  Newfoundland,  deliberately  for- 
saking his  master,  went  to  the  other  side  of 
Breta,  looking  from  time  to  time  up  into  her 
face. 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  93 

"  Ulysses  will  always  owe  you  allegiance, 
Miss  Garnet ;  he  never  forgets  a  friend — or  a 
foe."  And  de  Grey  related  several  anecdotes 
of  the  dog's  great  sagacity. 

"  Your  horse,  Mr.  de  Grey,  is  a  beauty.  Se- 
lim  do  you  call  him  ?  He  really  looks  sorry, 
as  though  he  understood  what  he  had  done. 
But  he  should  have  known  better  than  to  throw 
you." 

"  I  will  tell  him  so  when  I  get  him  alone,  and 
he  will  be  ashamed  of  himself.  It  is  his  first 
offence."  And  from  Selim  and  Ulysses  they 
went  to  other  topics ;  and  by  the  time  they 
reached  Elmwood,  Breta  thought  she  had  never 
spent  so  delightful  a  half  hour. 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mr.  Whyte  to  her,  on  their 
way  back  to  the  school,  "  young  de  Grey  thinks 
to  systematize  those  ghosts  ;  but  I  tell  him  no 
philosophy  dug  out  of  the  past  or  eliminated 
from  the  present,  can  ever  systematize  a  ghost, 
the  most  unreliable,  the  most — 

"  Mr.  de  Grey  is  surely  of  sound  mind,  Uncle 
Ray,  is  he  not  ?  "  marvelled  Breta. 

"  None  sounder.  He  has  studied  rosicru- 
cian  lore,  young  as  he  is,  so  deeply,  that  he 
fairly  makes  my  head  spin  to  hear  him  talk  of 


94  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

his  '  Three   Fires,'  and  'Dissolvents,'  and  'In- 
ternal Illuminations,'  and  '  Calcinations.' ' 

"  I  can  well  understand  that,  Uncle  Ray;  for 
when  I  was  studying  Harmony,  the  technical 
expressions  continually  posed  me.  I  could 
comprehend  the  prohibition  of  consecutive  fifths 
(unless  managed  as  adroitly  as  Beethoven  and 
Chopin  manage  them)  both  by  their  sound  to 
the  ear  as  well  as  by  the  rule.  But  speaking 
of  consecutive  fifths  as  the  quint  succession 
was  at  first  very  puzzling.  And  also  that  the 
Monophonic  tone-chain,  and  the  Duophonic, 
Triphonic,  Tetraphonic,  and  Polyphonic,  meant 
no  more  than  one-voiced,  two- voiced,  and  so 
on,  compositions.  And  as  for  the  Ecclesiastical 
keys — the  Ionian,  Dorian,  Myxolidian,  and  the 
rest, — they  were  a  perfect  mix,  until  of  a  sud- 
den I  saw  how  simple  they  really  are,  al- 
though differing  from  our  modern  quint  circle, 
in  which  the  progression  of  keys  is  always  a 
fifth  distant  from  the  preceding  one." 

"  My  dear,"  it  is  always  the  technicalities  of 
science  that  are  more  difficult  to  surmount  than 
the  science  itself.  There  must  be  some  boun- 
dary line  hard  to  cross,  or  everybody  would 
know  as  much  as  the  teachers  "  ;  and  Mr.  Whyte 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  g5 

looked  at  his  niece  with  his  twisted  smile. 
"  But  de  Grey  seems  to  have  studied  them 
all,"  continued  he, — "  sciences,  arts,  and  techni- 
calities. Not  that  he  attempts  to  show  off;  he 
really  seems  so  unconscious  of  how  much  he 
has  learned  and  thought,  that  it  is  quite  refresh- 
ing to  meet  one  so  little  egotistical.  But  some- 
how what  he  knows  seems  to  radiate  from  him 
when  he  is  talking  with — " 

o 

"  With  any  one  like  yourself,  Uncle  Ray, 
who  also  has  studied  so  profoundly.  You 
should  hear  what  Miss  Rutherford  says.  She 
has  great  reverence  for  the  mass  of  information 
you  have  acquired  on  all  scientific  subjects, 
especially  music,"  said  Breta,  proudly. 

"  Except  the  science  of  ghosts,  Breta.  When 
it  comes  to  ghosts,  I — but  concerning  de  Grey's 
philosophy  of  ghosts, — or  unseen  powers  as  he 
calls  them.  He  has  based  his  theory  on  the 
opinions  taught  by  Socrates,  Plato,  and  the  sub- 
sequent rosicrucians  (not  that  they  taught  or 
wrote  about  ghosts  at  all),  and  has  studied 
Jacob  Boehme  and  all  the  modern  metaphysical 
writers  (not  that  any  of  these  write  about  ghosts 
either,  for  they  do  not) ;  but  the  result  of  all  his 
studies  combined,  has  been  to  develop  a  pre- 


96  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

conceived  opinion  of  his  own  on  the  subject, 
which  seems  to  be,  that  a  more  rapid  develop- 
ment in  religion,  science,  and  art  can  be  at- 
tained, than  has  yet  been  dreamed  of  in  the 
present  crude  state  of  the  world,  through  the 
co-agency  of  the  unseen  world,  and  by  means  of 
some  philosophico-scientific  process  that  I  can- 
not exactly  comprehend  (I  always  do  get  mixed 
up  on  ghosts),  which,  causing  the  spiritual  and 
physical  worlds  tot  coalesce,  will  produce  this 
happy  result.  But  he  needs  a  house,  such  as 
the  one  he  has  just  purchased,  in  which  to  work, 
you  see." 

"  Excuse  me,  Uncle  Ray,  I  do  not  see.  And 
I  should  say  Mr.  de  Grey  had  better  let  the 
unseen  world  and  the  unseen  powers  alone 
until  the  time  comes  for  him  to  see  them.  A 
higher  development  is  all  the  time  gradually 
coming.  There  is  scarcely  a  day  that  we  do 
not  hear  of  some  grand  scientific  discovery,  or 
some  great  invention, — such  as,  only  a  day  or 
two  ago,  this  wonderful  telephone." 

"  My  dear,  some  of  the  modern  philosophers 
go  so  far  as  to  assert  that  every  discovery  or 
invention  that  is  effected,  proceeds  from — di- 
rectly from  ghosts  ;  in  short,  that  we  are  noth- 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  97 

ing  of  ourselves,  except  as  ghosts  speak,  act, 
and  think  through  us." 

"  Does  Mr.  de  Grey  believe  any  thing  so- 
so  preposterous  as  that  ? "  exclaimed  Breta, 
aghast. 

"  Far  from  it,  my  dear.  He  believes  nothing 
of  that  sort.  Do  not  look  so  shocked.  That 
is  no  part  of  his  belief.  But  he  goes  further 
than  I  can  when  he  asserts  that  ghosts  (or  un- 
seen powers)  can  be  systematized  and  utilized." 

"  Now,  Uncle  Ray,  dear,  we  all  know  that 
many  strange  things  have  been,  such  as  the  un- 
accountable occurrences  that  transpired  in  the 
family  of  John  Wesley,  for  instance — " 

. "  And  in  that  Elmwood  house  we  have  just 
left,  for  instance,"  interrupted  her  uncle. 

"  All  these  are  bad  enough  or  good  enough, 
as  people  think,  when  they  come  of  themselves," 
resumed  Breta.  "  But  going  in  search  of  the 
supernatural  I  should  think  would  unfit  any  one 
—it  would  me — for  the  natural  occurrences  of 
life.  Besides  all  that,  we  are  expressly  warned 
against  hunting  after  signs  and  wonders.  And 
now  that  we  understand  the  real  significance  of 
the  injunction  concerning  the  sign  of  the  prophet 
Jonah,  it  should  be  as  much  respected  by  us  as 


98  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

it  was  not  by  those  perverse  old  Jews  to  whom 
it  was  given." 

"  My  dear  little  niece,  your  opinion  is  without 
doubt  a  correct  one,  but  your  elucidation  of  it, 
like  those  of  more  profound  metaphysicians  on 
other  subtle  questions,  is  as  clear  as  mud." 

"  You  may  laugh  at  me,  Uncle  Ray,"  said 
Breta,  with  a  bright  smile. 

"  My  dear,  if  I  laugh,"  replied  Mr.  Whyte, 
with  his  twisted  smile,  "it  is  at  the  ignorance 
of  the  learned,  who,  in  trying  to  make  things 
clear,  make  nothing  clear  but  that  they  do  not 
understand  their  own  subject.  Dropping  all 
this,  de  Grey  made  me  acquainted  with  the 
principles  of  the  rosicrucian  faith,  interesting 
me  beyond  measure.  Not  a  word  of  ghosts, 
mark  you.  The  Rosy-cross-men  were  simply 
philosophers  in  search  of  the  truth,  and  they 
were  obliged  to  conceal  the  truths  at  which 
they  arrived  under  symbols,  and  numerical 
figures ;  as  any  ennobling  truth  divulged  in 
those  heathenish  days  meant — to  those  who 
permeated  these  truths — persecution,  by  the 
besottedly  ignorant  and  prejudiced  priests  ;  for 
the  most  part  ending  in  death'.  Their  philoso- 
pher's stone,  in  its  fullest  interpretation, 


In  the  Forest- Gloaming.  99 

meant  man.  Calling  it  '  gold,'  it  was  typical, 
in  the  religious  sense,  of  God's  love  and  wis- 
dom, also  of  truth  ;  and  in  the  scientific  sense 
it  was  typical  of  the  perfection  in  chemical  and 
astronomical  achievement  at  which  they  aimed. 
That  we  owe  our  religious  freedom  to  the  inde- 
fatigable efforts  of  those  martyrs  of  the  her- 
metic school,  is  quite  certain  ;  and  that  the  study 
of  hermetic  lore  should  enchant  and  engross 
the  mind  of  a  young  man  of  intelligence  and 
leisure,  like  young  de  Grey,  I  can  well  con- 
ceive. But  how  he  is  going  to  apply  those 
profound  teachings  of  the  past  toward  systema- 
tizing the  capers  of  the  ghosts  of  the  present,  is, 
as  I  have  said,  beyond  my  fathoming.  But 
when  it  comes  to  ghosts, — as  I  have  so  often 
said, — I  never  do  know,  I  get  things  mixed  up 
so." 


VII. 

"  SOMETHING     IS     GOING     TO     COME     OUT     OF    ALL 
THIS." 

AS  Mr.  Whyte  and  Breta  drove  up  the 
seminary  carriage-way  after  "tea,"  as 
the  evening  meal  was  called,  although  every 
one  in  the  establishment,  except  the  servants, 
drank  milk  in  preference  to  the  celestial  bever- 
age, Mr.  Whyte  commented  in  his  roseate 
way  on  the  various  merry  groups  of  girls  they 
passed  on  the  lawn,  who  were  engaged  at 
croquet  and  lawn  tennis. 

They  found  Miss  Rutherford  enjoying  the 
cool  breeze  on  the  front  veranda ;  and  Mr. 
Whyte,  being  held  in  high  esteem  by  her  as 
teacher  of  Harmony  and  Acoustics  in  her 
school,  and  as  adviser  and  help  when  she  had 
any  musical  doings  on  hand,  was  cordially 
greeted  by  her.  He  stopped  but  a  moment, 
and  with  a  parting  salutation  to  her  and  Breta, 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this"   i  o  i 

and  a  modest  little  bow  to  the  young  ladies  on 
the  lawn,  as  he  passed  them,  he  drove  on. 

Breta,  after  supping  alone,  joined  a  knot  of 
the  older  girls  on  the  lawn,  who  were  listening 
to  an  animated  discussion  between  Frank  and 
Pella. 

"  It 's  ghosts  we  're  talking  about,  Miss  Breta ; 
does  not  each  particular  hair  on  all  our  heads 
stand  on  end  ?  "  said  Sadie  Burrill — the  same 
who  had  breakfasted  on  apple-pie  with  Frank 
on  Sunday. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  why  we  may  not  talk 
of  them,  after  the  long  lecture  Miss  Rutherford 
gave  us  on  ghosts  this  afternoon,  while  you 
were  away,  Miss  Breta,"  exclaimed  Frank. 
"  She  told  us  that— 

"  A  lecture  from  Miss  Rutherford  on  ghosts ! " 
said  Breta,  smiling,  as  she  looked  questioningly 
from  one  to  another. 

"  She  said  that  these  things  are,  and — " 

"  That  ghosts  are !  "  again  interrupted  Breta. 
"  Did  Miss  Rutherford  affirm  the  actual  reality 
of—" 

"  Of  course  she  did  not,  Miss  Breta,"  said 
Pella  Morton,  in  high  falsetto.  "  Miss  Ruther- 
ford never  mentioned  the  word  ghost  during 


IO2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  few  remarks  she  made,  which  Frank,  with 
her  remarkable  faculty  for  twisting  things, 
affirms.  She  said  that  owing  to  certain  electri- 
cal atmospheric  conditions,  telephonic  sounds 
from  time  to  time  had  been  produced  in  certain 
localities  unexplainable  to  our  present  compre- 
hension. And  that  when  these  psychical  or 
physical  subtleties,  which  (too  well  authenticated 
to  doubt)  had  existed  through  all  the  world's 
history,  could  be  better  understood,  a  natural 
and  scientific  explanation  would  be  found  for 
all  these  seeming  marvels.  She  cited  the 
mirages  of  the  deserts,  wherein  cities  miles  off 
are  reflected  so  perfectly  as  to  deceive  and  mis- 
lead travellers,  and  gave  us  the  scientific  eluci- 
dation of  these  natural  phenomena.  She  wound 
up  by  cautioning  us  that  nothing  can  be  more 
ruinous  to  all  practical  aims  in  life  than  to  per- 
mit the  mind  to  get  swamped  in  the  mazes  and 
marvels  of  what  is  affirmed  to  be  performed  by 
agencies  who  have  departed  this  life." 

"There,  now!  if  that  is  n't  ghosts,  what  is 
it  ?  "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  I  for  one  am  free  to 
say 'that  I  am  afraid  of  ghosts,  and  no  elucida- 
tion, however  scientific,  could  ever  make  me  do 
any  thing  but  shudder  at  the  thought  even  of 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this"   103 

hearing  sounds  for  which  I  cannot  account,  or 
of  seeing  some  one  all  of  a  sudden  appear  and 
then  vanish  into  thin  air.  The  telephone  is  a 
wonderful  discovery,  and  when  it  carries  sounds 
from  one  human  being  to  another,  is  very  in- 
teresting. But  /*like  to  know  who  is  at  the 
other  end  of  the  wire.  Carrying  on  a  tele- 
phonic conversation  with  a  ghost  is  not  to  my 
mind.  I  agree  with  Horace  that  nee  scire  fas 
est  omnia.  It  would  be  as  much  as  my  nee  is 
worth  to  say  nothing  of  my  scire  s  to  have  any 
thing  to  do  with  scientific  ghosts,  or  ghosts  that 
do  not  even  know  the  alphabet.  I  am  glad  you 
have  sold  your  ghosts,  Miss  Breta, — which  was 
the  occasion,  or  were  the  occasion  (bother 
grammar !  I  don't  know  which  it  is)  of  all  that 
has  been  said." 

Pella  Morton  was  continuing  the  subject ; 
but  Frank,  twining  her  arm  lovingly  around 
Breta's  waist,  asked  her  if  she  would  not  go 
and  sit  under  the  willows  for  a  little  while,  as 
she  had  something  very  particular  to  say  to 
her. 

"  Just  see  how  Frank  manages  Miss  Breta," 
said  Pella  Morton,  breaking  off  from  her  re- 
marks and  turning  up  her  pretty  Greek  nose 


1O4  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

contemptuously.     "If  Miss    Breta   could    only 
realize  how  entirely  deceitful  Frank  is— 
"  Frank  has  no  more  deceit  in  her  than— 
"  Than   you  have,  Sadie  Burrill,"  interrupted 
Pella,  with  a  little  spiteful  laugh. 

"  If  it  were  not  mean  to  be  personal,  Pella," 
returned  Sadie,  "  I  could  prove  who  is  deceit- 
ful. I  do  not  consider  the  little  affair  of  yester- 
day any  test  of  deceit,  as  Frank  and  I  did  that 
for  a  piece  of  fun,  and  every  one  of  you  all 
knew  of  it." 

"  Including  Miss  Rutherford,"  said  Pella,  with 
another  little  laugh. 

"  Pella,  I  won't  talk  with  you  any  more  about 
it,"  and  as  Sadie  turned  to  go,  Pella,  with  an- 
other little  laugh,  exclaimed  : 

"  Sadie  Burrill,  I  see,  is  more  afraid  to  face 
the  truth  than  to  perpetrate  '  a  piece  of  fun,'  as 
she  calls  it." 

But  Sadie,  without  hazarding  a  reply,  walked 
over  toward  a  group  who  were  playing  tennis  ; 
looking  admiringly,  as  she  went,  down  at  her 
handsome  friend  Frank,  who,  at  that  moment, 
seated  on  a  log  beside  Breta,  with  one  brown 
hand  paddling  in  the  limpid  water  of  the  brook, 
was  saying : 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this.'    io5 

"  Now,  Breta,  darling  (Frank  always  dropped 
the  prefix  of  Miss  to  Breta's  name,  when  they 
were  together  alone,  having  told  her  punningly 
that  she  loved  her  too  well  to  Miss  her  except 
when  she  must),  you  know,  for  I  Ve  said  so, 
often,  that  you  alone  can  put  a  head  on  me. 
I  am  glad  to  be  able  to  swallow  pride,  and  ac- 
knowledge that  I  was  all  wrong  yesterday.  I 
am  so  proud  and  hateful  and  obstinate  that  no 
one  could  ever  get  me  to  do  any  thing  or  learn 
any  thing;  and  I  should  have  been  worse  than 
ever  here  if  it  had  not  been  for  you,  Breta,  dear. 
You  influenced  me  straight  along.  It  has  been 
three  years  now,  you  were  sixteen  and  a  half 
and  I  was  sixteen  and  a  half— you  might  have 
been  sixty  and  I  six,  for  the  difference  in  our  ac- 
quirements. I  did  not  realize  it  then,  but  know 
it  now,  and  mamma  fully  understands  it.  She 
noticed  the  improvement  in  me  every  time  I 
went  home." 

"  Why,  Frances  ;  why,  dear  Frank,  how  can 
you  ?  It  was  nothing.  You  have  exaggerated 
it  all." 

"Foolish,  am  I  not?"  exclaimed  Frank, 
wiping  from  her  eyes  the  moisture  that  had 
collected  in  them,  and  laughing  at  the  same 


106  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

time.  "  Who  ever  would  have  believed  it,  and 
of  me?  But  what  I  say  is  true,  and  mamma 
wished  to  give  you  a  grand  present  when  you 
were  home  with  me  at  Easter.  But  I  would 
not  let  her  wound  you  by  any  thing  so  patron- 
izing. I  said  to  her  :  '  Suppose  /  should  be 
good  and  lovely  and  fond  of  study  and  doing 
the  right  thing  and  that,  would  you  like  every 
one  to  be  sending  me  costly  gifts  on  account  of 
it  ? '  And  then  mamma  subsided.  And  now 
you  Ve  had  my  confession,  I  can  only  say  that 
once  wild  horses  could  n't  have  wrung  it  from 
me." 

"  I  doubt  if  any  thing  could  wring  any  con- 
fession from  you,  Frank.  But  pray  don't  make 
any  more  to  me." 

"  Agreed,  for  it  is  time  now  for  you  to  con- 
fess. What  is  it  that  has  changed  you  so,  since 
yesterday  ?  Your  whole  look  is  different, 
Breta." 

"  I  know  of  no  change  in  myself,  you  absurd 
Frank.  But  let  me  thank  you  for  preventing 
your  mother  from  making  me  a  costly  gift.  It 
would  have  wounded  me." 

"  Whom  did  you  see  at  church  yesterday, 
Breta  ? "  abruptly  asked  Frank.  "  I  mean  whom 


"  Something  is  go-ing  to  come  out  of  all  this"   io/ 

besides  your  everlasting  cousin  Noel  ?  He  is 
always  there ;  I  have  no  patience  with  him." 

"  What,  for  going  to  church  ?  "  asked  Breta. 
"  Poor  Noel !  " 

"  Breta,  why  do  you  let  that — why  do  you 
permit  Noel  Dunraven  to  hang  around  you  so 
year  after  year  ?  " 

"  Is  this  the  confession  you  wished  me  to 
make  ?  " 

"  Do  you  intend  to  marry  him  ?  " 

"  Is  that  the  confession  you  wished  me  to 
make  ?  " 

"  Breta,  you  pretend  to  be  my  friend — are 
you  ? " 

"  Is  that  the  con— 

"  For  heaven's  sake  don't  say  that  over 
again !  You  pretend  to  tell  me  every  thing, 
and  yet,  no  matter  how  much  I  plead,  you  will 
say  nothing  about  Noel  Dunraven.  I  know  no 
more  of  him — of  your  feelings  toward  him  than 
-.  Is  he—  ?" 

"  He  is  my  uncle's  nephew." 

"  Do  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  Should  I  not  love  my  uncle's  nephew  ?  " 

"  Breta,  you  are  awful.  But  we  '11  drop  him. 
/  do  not  intend  you  shall  marry  him  any  way. 


io8  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Now  tell  me  about  the  other.  Clara  Rivers  is 
wild  about  him.  But  I  Ve  no  faith  in  her.  Now 
for  the  confession." 

"  The  other  !     What  other,  Frank  ?  " 

"  De  Grey — the  gentleman  who  bought  Elm- 
wood.  Was  n't  he  there  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Ray  introduced  him  to  me." 

"  Is  Mr.  de  Grey  young  or  old  ?  " 

"  He  is  twenty-six,  Uncle  Ray  told  me." 

"  Is  he  handsome  ? " 

"  Remarkably  so." 

"  How  did  the  music  go  ?  " 

"  We  missed  your  contralto,  but  otherwise 
Uncle  Ray  said  the  music  went  —  went  as 
usual." 

"  What  did  you  sing  ?  " 

" '  I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.'  ' 

"  Ah,  I  know  how  that  was  sung  ;  and  what 
did  Mr.  de  Grey  say  ?  " 

"  He  joined  with  Uncle  Ray  in  approving  the 
music." 

"  What  happened  this  afternoon  when  you 

were  out  ?     Did  you  see  Mr.  de  Grey  again  ?  " 

"  Frank,  you  are  equal  to  a  whole  court  of 

lawyers  with  your  cross-questions.     Let  us  go 

up  to  the  house." 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this."   109 

"  Breta,  why  did  you  come  home  with  your 
Uncle  Ray,  and  so  late  in  the  afternoon,  unless 
you  were  at  the  old  place,  where  de  Grey  un- 
doubtedly was  ?  " 

"  Your  imagination  is  entirely  too  active, 
Frank,  and  for  fear  it  may  run  off  in  the  wrong 
direction  I  will  set  you  right.  Whilst  down  in 
the  woods  over  there  a  large  dog  came  and  asked 
me  to  go  with  him.  'He  took  me  to  his  master, 
who  had  been  thrown  from  his  horse  and  was 
insensible.  I  dashed  water,  in  his  face  and 
chafed  his  hands,  which  revived  him.  I  then 
accompanied  him  to  the  old  place,  fearing  he 
might  need  further  assistance." 

"  And  that  was  de  Grey,"  said  Frank.  She 
scrutinized  Breta  closely,  but  as  Breta  met  the 
look  with  her  clear  blue-gray  eyes  full  of  the 
same  steadfast,  tender  light  that  always  shone 
in  them,  with  no  attempt  at  avoiding  her  intent 
look,  Frank  asked  : 

"  Was  it  Mr.  de  Grey's  proposition  to  accom- 
pany him  ?  " 

"  It  was  mine,  Frank.  Is  the  catechism 
over  ?  " 

"  Then  you  saved  Mr.  de  Grey's  life.  That 
seems  to  be  the  long  and  the  short  of  it.  The 


no  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

size  of  it,  I  should  have  said,"  and  Frank  threw 
her  eyes  mischievously  at  Breta,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Mr.  de  Grey  said  so,"  said  Breta,  quietly. 
"  But  very  possibly  he  might  have  revived  with- 
out assistance." 

"  And  very  probably  he  would  not.  Those 
suspensions  of  life  have  to  be  met  very  prompt- 
ly, or — " 

"  At  all  events  I  was  terribly  alarmed.  And 
the  feeling  of  relief  was  unspeakable  when  he 
opened  his  eyes." 

Both  were  silent  for  a  few  moments.  At 
length  Frank  asked  : 

"  Did  you  see  any  thing,  or  hear  any  thing 
from  any  of  your — no,  Mr.  de  Grey's — 

"  I  have  never  once  heard  the  slightest  unac- 
countable noise  in  that  house,  often  as  I  have 
been  there,  during  the  three  years  I  have  been 
back  from  Europe.  I  think  as  Miss  Rutherford 
does  about — the  noises." 

"  And  that  they  are  not — " 

"  I  never  thought  them  disembod — I  have 
really  never  given  the  subject  any  serious 
thought." 

"  Was  Mr.  de  Grey  recovered  from  his  fall  ?  " 

"  He  seemed  to  be,  though  still  fearfully  pale. 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this''   1 1 1 

He  insisted  on  helping  Uncle  Ray  harness  his 
horse." 

"  Has  Mr.  de  Grey  no  groom  there  ?  " 

"  No  ;  his  servants  refused  to  go  to  what  they 
called  a  '  haunted  house.'  Mr.  de  Grey  gave 
me  quite  an  amusing  description,  on  the  way 
there,  of  their  fears.  He  attends  to  his  horse 
and  helps  Uncle  Ray  cook,  and  seems  to  enjoy 
it  highly.  Some  women  are  hired  by  the  day 
to  sweep  and  clean  up,  and  that  sort  of  thing. 
He  and  Uncle  Ray  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to 
each  other  ;  they  get  along  admirably  to- 
gether." 

"I  should  think  your  Uncle  Ray  would  have 
been  glad  enough  to  get  away  after  he  had  sold 
your  place." 

"It  was  at  Mr.  de  Grey's  urgent  request  that 
he  remained  ;  they  suit  each  other  exactly. 
Mr.  de  Grey  has  commenced  lessons  on  the 
violin,  or  cello,  rather,  with  Uncle  Ray.  And 
although  he  studied  in  Europe,  he  considers 
Uncle  Ray's  method  superior  to  that  of  the 
great  master  he  was  with — as  severe,  and  at  the 
same  time  with  a  broader  comprehension  of  the 
true  art." 

"  Then  Mr.  de  Grey  is  a  musician  ?  " 


I  12 


The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 


"  A  fine  one,  Uncle  Ray  told  me.  His  in- 
strument is  the  cello,  I  believe  I  said  so." 

"  Breta,  dear,  I  have  something  to  say — a 
prophecy  to  make." 

"  You  quite  alarm  me,  Frank,  you  are  so 
mysterious  ;  but  say  on,"  said  Breta,  with  a 
laugh. 

"I  am  not  the  seventh  daughter  of  the 
seventh  daughter,  and  I  was  n't  born  with  a 
Baxter's  effectual  call  on  my  head  (I  quote 
Lowell,  you  know),  but  I  always  could  tell 
things.  Mamma  has  often  called  me  a  witch,  I 
have  told  so  many  things  that  have  come  true  ; 
I  probably  have  the  divine  gift  of  prophecy. 
Well,  I  feel  a  presentiment  that  something  is 
going  to  come  out  of  all  this-,  and  you  will  see 
if  my  prediction  is  not  verified." 

"  Something  usually  comes  out  of  every  thing, 
I  believe,"  returned  Breta,  laughing  ;  "  but  what 
is  this  wonderful  thing  that  is  going  to  come  out 
of  all  this,  and  what  is  all  this  ?  " 

"  You  know  what  I  mean,  Breta." 

"  Indeed,  Frank,  I  have  not  the  least  concep- 
tion." 

"  Does  Mr.  de  Grey,"  asked  Frank,  "  expect 
to  work  out,  to  elucidate,  or  whatever  it  is — 


"  Something  is  going  to  come  out  of  all  this."   1 1 3 

well,  to  reduce  to  a  science  the  comings  and 
goings  of  those — what  I  heard  was,  that  he  is 
a  rosicrucian,  or  sorcerer,  or  something  of  that 
sort,"  she  added,  looking  mischievously  at 
Breta. 

"  My  dear  Frank,  I  have  no  sympathy  with 
this,"  said  Breta,  seriously.  "  When  the  time 
comes  for  the  unseen  world  to  reveal  its  secrets, 
it  will  be  done  without  the  aid  of— 

"  Of  alembic,  crucible,  powwows,  and  all  that 
fanfarade  of  magic,"  interrupted  Frank,  with 
one  of  her  heartiest  laughs.  "  But  seriously, 
Breta,  if  he  is  in  the  wrong  it  is  for  you  to  set 
him  right.  That  is  your  mission  in  this  world 
—to  put  a  head  on  people.  Everybody  grows 
better  where  you  are,  you  are  so  right  ar\d  true 
yourself — so  earnestly  simple  and  so  simply  in 
earnest,  and — 

"  There,  Frank,  please  stop." 

"  May  I  observe  again  that  the  end  of  all  this 
has  not  yet  come  ?  "  asked  Frank,  with  a  brill- 
iant smile. 

"  Has  the  end  of  any  thing  come? " 

"  Breta,  parry  it  as  you  will,  it  is  inevitable  ! 
It  will  end  as  I  predict !  Now  mark  me."  And 
Frank  gave  her  head  a  significant  series  of 


1 1 4  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

nods,  expressing  volumes  more  than  her  words, 
and  which,  as  they  always  did,  sent  lights  and 
shadows  playing  hide-and-seek  in  her  raven 
hair. 

"  Frank,  you  are  perfectly  absurd." 

"  I  always  was." 

"  And  if  I  did  not  at  first  understand  you,  I 
do  of  course  now.  Your  seventh  daughter 
divination  is  at  fault.  Nothing  is  more  unlikely 
than  the  end  you  propose.  I  have  other  views 
for  myself,  Frank,  and  am  going  to  devote  my- 
self to  doing  some  good  in  the  world.  -  I  will 
tell  you  my  project  some  day,  for  I  have  thought 
a  great  deal  about  it  of  late." 

"  '  The  best-laid  schemes  o'  mice  and  men 
gang  aft  a-gley.'  I  will  give  you  just  three 
weeks  to  forget  all  about  your  project." 

"  I  will  give  the  skies  just  three  weeks  to  fall 
in,"  said  Breta,  laughing,  and  shaking  her  wise 
young  head. 

"  Let  us  go  up  to  the  house  and  get  under 
cover.  See,  the  dew  is  already  falling  fast — the 
skies  may  follow." 


VIII. 

ELMWOOD. 

ELMWOOD,  where,  according  to  repute, 
ghosts  held  high  carnival,  lay  about 
three  miles  farther  down  the  spring-fed  stream 
from  that  busy  hive  of  yellow-haired  and  raven- 
haired  bees — where  Miss  Rutherford,  a  model 
queen-bee,  duly  rewarded  the  workers  and 
punished  the  drones. 

Elmwood  was,  like  the  seminary,  situated  on 
a  high  hill ; — the  village  of  Lea,  through  which 
wound  the  road,  lying  in  the  valley  below,  be- 
tween the  two  sites. 

On  the  day  following,  the  warm  June  sun 
shone  down  on  valley  and  hills,  and  all  things, 
trees  and  flowers,  butterflies  and  birds,  feeling 
its  vivifying  influence,  looked  joyous, — all  save 
the  Cupids  and  Venuses  at  Elmwood.  They, 
with  their  freshly  washed  faces — there  had  been 
a  shower  in  the  night, — were  still  as  aslant  and 
melancholy  as  ever. 

"5 


1 1 6  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Within  doors  Mr.  Whyte  with  de  Grey  hav- 
ing just  finished  on  violin  and  cello  a  long 
symphony,  Mr.  Whyte  was  saying : 

"  Not  a  squeak  yet  from  a  ghost !  It  is 
very  strange.  I  should  think  Sebastian  Bach 
might  awaken  some  response  from  them  if  only 
to  accommodate  you,  de  Grey.  If  those  old 
sorcerers  relied  on  - 

"  Reputed  sorcerers,  Mr.  Whyte.  In  point  of 
fact,  earnest  seekers  after  divine  wisdom,"  in- 
terposed de  Grey. 

"  If  those  old  magi  relied  on  ghosts, — the 
most  unreliable— 

"  They  relied  solely  on  their  own  indefati- 
gable labors  for  their  results,  and  never  on  the 
viewless  powers  of  the  air." 

"  It  is  all  a  myth  to  me,  de  Grey, — an  oblong 
blur." 

"  It  is  certainly  very  intangible,"  returned  de 
Grey,  laughing.  "  Still,  the  idea  of  utilizing  to 
scientific  ends  unseen  forces,  that  the  workers 
of  the  world  may  receive  more  potent  skill— 
that  you  consider  so  Utopian, — is,  I  think,  feasi- 
ble, and  may  be  carried  out  by  certain  chymical 
processes,  experimental,  in  a  place,  such  as  this, 
where  these  phenomena  have  transpired." 


Elmwood.  117 

"  Mr.  de  Grey,  I  can  really  say  nothing  on 
that  point — whether  it  may  or  may  not  be 
Utopian, — as  I  have  never  given  the  subject 
any  careful  investigation.  But  I  was  going  to 
add  that  if  those  old  magi  did  rely  on  ghosts  as 
their  backers  in  pursuit  of  wisdom,  it  is  no 
wonder  that  many  of  them  got  their  heads 
turned  and  that  their  wits  went  wool-gather- 
ing-" 

"  My  dear  friend,"  replied  de  Grey,  breaking 
out  into  an  irresistible  laugh,  "you  do  not  view 
this  subject  fairly.  Go  with  me  to  the  station, 
it  will  be  on  your  way  to  Miss  Rutherford's 
(did  you  not  tell  me  two  is  your  hour  there  ?) 
and  I  will  give  you  a  few  facts  that,  as  you  say, 
you  have  evidently  not  studied.  I  must  take 
the  cars  to  the  city,  as  I  wish  to  see  Black,  and 
shall  not  be  back  here  until  to-morrow." 

And  de  Grey,  as  bright  and  fresh  and  genial 
as  though  he  possessed  no  musty  hermetic 
parchments  above-stairs  over  which  he  pored — 
though  still  with  that  shade  of  sadness  on  his 
face,  most  visible  in  the  solemn  lustre  of  his 
large,  luminous  eyes, — commenced  his  arrange- 
ments for  going,  by  carefully  putting  away  his 
cello  in  its  case. 


1 1 8  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Mr.  Whyte,  replacing  his  violin  caressingly  in 
its  case  with  still  greater  care,  signified  to  de 
Grey  how  pleased  he  would  be  to  drive  him  to 
the  station,  and  looking  at  his  time,  he  opened 
the  back  of  his  watch  (a  handsome  repeater), 
asking  de  Grey  if  he  recognized  the  face 
within. 

"  It  is  Prince  Konigsberg,  the  great  Prussian 
diplomat,  is  it  not  ?  " 

"  The  same.  When  he  was  in  Milan  he  al- 
most lived  at  my  house,"  returned  Mr.  Whyte. 
"  He  is  extravagantly  fond  of  music,  especially 
of  the  violin.  I  could  never  play  enough  for 
him.  He  sent  me  this,  with  the  minature 
within,"  continued  Mr.  Whyte,  with  modest 
pride.  "  The  painting  is  by  a  celebrated  Ger- 
man artist." 

"  With  regard  to  your  violin,  Mr.  Whyte, 
Konigsberg  and  I  can  shake  hands,"  responded 
de  Grey. 

1  On  their  way  to  the  station,  instead  of  talking 
on  the  proposed  subject,  Mr.  Whyte,  who 
chanced  to  relate  an  anecdote  of  his  niece  Bre- 
ta's  early  life,  was  led  on  by  de  Grey  to  tell 
another  and  another  ;  these  characteristic  epi- 
sodes of  Miss  Garnet's  juvenile  career,  seeming 


Elmwood.  1 1 9 

to  interest  him  more  than  the  hermetic  philoso- 
phy that  had  absorbed  so  much  of  his  life. 

"  On  one  occasion,"  continued  little  Mr. 
Whyte,  warming  with  his  subject,  "  I  had  been 
wavering  between  two  violins  selected  from 
many,  both  Cremonas,  and  I  was  trying  first 
one  and  then  the  other,  when  Breta— she  was 
then  five  years  old — in  her  child's  way  said  : 
'  Uncle  Ray,  that  one  sounds  just  as  though  you 
had  put  your  pocket-handkerchief  over  it,  and 
this  one  sounds  as  though  you  had  taken  your 
handkerchief  away  from  it ;  I  love  this  one  the 
best/ — and  the  little  thing  took  it  in  her  arms 
and  kissed  it.  I  considered  her  judgment  a 
good  one,  and  purchased  it  at  once.  I  after- 
ward ascertained,  by  the  merest  chance,  its  his- 
tory :  It  is  a  genuine  Stradivarius,  made  at  Cre- 
mona by  Stradivarius  the  father, — you  know 
there  were  only  two  makers  of  that  name, 
father  and  son." 

.  "It  is  by  far  the  finest-toned  instrument  I 
ever  heard,  Mr.  Whyte,  and  does  credit  to  Miss 
Breta's  choice.  I  don't  marvel  that  you  value 
it.  Can  that  be  my  train  whistling  ?  " 

It  could  be  and  was  the  train,  and  de  Grey 
had  barely  time  to  "  catch  it,"  as  Mr.  Whyte  der 


1 20  77ie  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

clared,  by  running  at  full  speed  the  length  of  the 
platform,  they  driving  up  just  as  the  conductor 
shouted  :  "  All  aboard !  " 

Having  finished  with  his  classes,  Mr.  Whyte 
sent  up  for  Breta  to  take  a  drive  with  him. 

"  I  had  just  finished  my  last  lesson,"  said  she, 
as  they  drove  off.  "  It  was  Frank  Bowers',  and 
she  sang  magnificently.  But  what  a  handsome 
horse  !  Ah  !  I  see,  if  is  Mr.  de  Grey's  Selim. 
He  's  a  beauty.  But  what  have  you  done  with 
Flash  ?  And  where  's  Mr.  de  Grey  ?  " 

"  Flash  is   in  his  stable,  and  de   Grey   is  in 
New  York  by  this  time.      We  will  take  Flash 
with  us  when  we  go  to  New  York,  my  dear,— 
do  you  not  say  so  ?  " 

"  Certainly  we  will ;  Flash  is  a  little  darling  ; 
we  could  not  get  along  without  him  ;  He  is  one 
of  us.  But,  Uncle  Ray,  I  do  not  intend  being 
idle  after  we  get  to  New  York.  I  have  a  plan 
of  life,  and  shall  be  very  busy  in  carrying  it  out. 
I  wish  to  talk  with  you  about  it  some  time  — 
that  is,  more  fully  than  I  have  ;  you  know  some- 
thing of  it,— 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  and  approve  of  it ;  and  I  also 
have  a  plan,  and  we  will  see  who  can  work  the 
most  indefatigably,  you  or  L  And  while  we 


Elmwood.  1 2 1 

are  perfecting  our  plans  we  can  hear  all  the 
operas  and  oratorios  you  have  missed  so  much." 

"  You  also,  Uncle  Ray.  I  am  so  glad  you 
can  live  once  more,  somewhat  as  you  were 
accustomed  to,  without  being  compelled  to 
drudge  ;  working  hard  at  one's  bent  in  life 
is  n't  drudgery.  Fifty  thousand  dollars  is,  of 
course,  a  small  sum  in  comparison  to  what  we 
have  lost ;  but  we  can  live  on  it,  and  there  is 
so  much  to  be  done  in  this  world,  and  there 
are  so  many  to  help  who  need  help  ; — that  has 
become  my  one  thought." 

"  For  one  thing,  Breta,  I  shall  take  a  large 
organ  at  a  high  salary  ;  I  have  had  offers  from 
several  of  the  leading  churches  of  late,  when 
down  in  the  city.  For  another  thing,  I  intend 
seeing  to  the  investment  of  your  fifty  thousand 
dollars  myself,  and  not  let  that  go  with  the 
rest ; — I  have  gained  some  wisdom  through  ad- 
versity." 

"  I  shall  hate  to  leave  Miss  Rutherford's,  I 
have  grown  so  at  home  there  ;  new  faces  and 
strange  places  I  always  dread.  But  Frank  will 
be  in  New  York,  you  know,  Uncle  Ray;  this  is 
her  last  year.  Miss  Rutherford's  without  Frank 
will  be  dry  enough.  Shall  you  not  miss  your 


1 2  2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

wonderful  concerts  at  Elm  wood?  Now,  Uncle 
Ray,  tell  me  truly,  did  you  not  dream  all  that 
ghost  music  ?" 

"  My  dear,  am  I  dreaming  now  ?  Tell  you 
truly  ?  well  then,  truly  I  am  not  sure  of  any  thing 
where  ghosts  are  concerned.  I  would  say  : 
4  Yes,  I  dreamed  it  all,'  but  others — Mr.  Black, 
you  know — heard  it." 

"  So  he  said,  and  yet  for  me  the  house  has 
always  been  as  mute  as — as  any  other  house." 

"  They  have  been  ill  behaved  to  so  slight 
their  mistress — that  is,  if  they  are,  and  if  any 
thing  is." 

"  Why  do  you  turn  in  here,  Uncle  Ray  ? " 
asked  Breta.  "  When  will  Mr.  de  Grey  return  ? 
I  would  not  meet  him — that  is,  here  for — for 
worlds." 

"  Have  no  fear,  Joslyn  de  Grey  is — 

"  Joslyn  ?  That  is  his  name,  then  ;  I — I  won- 
dered what  it  might  be.  But  as  I  said,  I 
would  not  meet  him  here  at  Elm  wood,  for— 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear,  there  is  not  the 
slightest  danger,  as  de  Grey  will  not  be  back 
until  to-morrow.  I  have  his  own  words  for  it. 
I  wish  to  show  you  some  choice  old  scores  that 
I  received  from  Paris  to-day.  But  I  will  take 


Elmwood.  123 

them  to  the  school  if  you  prefer,  and  we  will 
drive  on." 

"  As  there  is  no  chance  of  Mr.  de  Grey's 
coming,  let  us  look  at  them  here,"  said  Breta, 
conquering  her  reluctance. 

They  were  deeply  engaged  in  reading  the 
scores,  when,  in  a  pause  from  Mr.  Whyte's  violin 
and  Breta's  voice,  a  rumbling  of  carriage  wheels 
was  heard. 

"  Bless  my  soul !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Whyte,  as 
he  looked  out  of  the  window.  "  Here  's  a  car- 
riage full  of  ghosts — people  I  should  say  ;  and 
the  head  of  one  is  the  head  of  Joslyn  de  Grey 
to  a  dead  certainty!  " 

"  Mr.  de  Grey !  "  reiterated  Breta,  flushing 
scarlet  and  then  turning  pale.  "  Great  heavens! 
Are  you  sure,  Uncle  Ray  ?  "  Breta  wished  to 
escape,  but  sat  down  again  as  hastily  as  she 
had  risen,  almost  paralyzed  with  chagrin. 

"  Joslyn  de  Grey — or  his  ghost,"  returned 
her  uncle.  "  The  lady  beside  him  is  elegantly 
attired  and  very  handsome.  The  young  wom- 
an on  the  front  seat  is  quite  plain  in  features 
and  dress.  The  carriage  stops.  The  elegantly- 
attired  lady  is  making  curious  signs  with  her 
ringers  to  the  plain  young  woman,  who  is  now 


1 24  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

assisted  down  by  the  man  that  sat  next  the 
driver,  and  they  are  removing  boxes  from  the 
carriage.  The  driver  is  taking  trunks  from  the 
rack.  The  beautiful  and  elegantly-attired  lady 
is  coming  up  on  the  veranda,  followed  by  de 
Grey  and  the  plain  young  woman.  Should 
they  all  be  ghosts— 

"  What  I  fear  is,  they  are  not  ghosts,"  said 
Breta,  with  energy,  her  heart  half  choking  her 
with  dismay. 

"  I  must  admit  them  whatever  they  are,"  re- 
turned her  uncle. 

"  Mr.  Whyte,  my  sister  Selma,"  pronounced 
de  Grey's  rich,  full  voice.  Breta  heard  it  from 
the  room  where  she  was  sitting  and  turned  still 
paler.  "  I  met  her  at  the  station  below  Lea 
and  so  returned  with  her.  Go  in,  Selma,  with 
Mr.  Whyte,  while  I  see  to  your  baggage." 

Miss  de  Grey,  on  her  way  through  the  wide 
hall,  was  telling  Mr.  Whyte  that  she  had  come 
to  keep  house  for  her  brother  while  he  pursued 
his  studies. 

"  Very  kind  of  you,  Miss  de  Grey.  Your 
brother  will  appreciate  your  goodness ;  he 
speaks  of  you  frequently,  and  I  feel  myself 
quite  acquainted  with  you.  You  will  find  the 


Elmwood.  125 

house  pretty  lively  at  times,  I  assure  you  " 
said  Mr.  Whyte. 

"  I  understand  all  about  that,  Mr.  Whyte,  but 
that  cannot  deter  me,  where  I  can  be  of  assist- 
ance to  Joslyn,"  affirmed  Selma,  enthusiastically, 
as,  with  an  unaffected  naturalness  of  manner, 
she  entered  the  room  where,  pale  to  whiteness, 
and  silent  to  immobility,  Breta  was  now  stand- 
ing proud  and  erect,  wishing  herself  miles  away. 
Miss  de  Grey  looked  at  Breta  with  slightly 
dilated  eyes,  as  though  she  might  be  one  of 
the  shadows  of  the  house  in  wait  to  receive 
her. 

"  My  piece,  Miss  Garnet,"  said  Mr.  Whyte  ; 
"  Breta,  it  is  Mr.  de  Grey's  sister,  my  dear." 

Advancing  with  extended  hand,  her  violet 
eyes  beaming  and  quite  restored  to  their 
natural  size,  Selma  greeted  Breta  with  effu- 
sion, kissing  her  on  both  cheeks. 

"  I  am  afraid  Joslyn  might  have  fared  ill  there 
in  the  woods,"  said  she  in  a  caressing  tone  that 
was  irresistible,  "had  it  not  been  for  your 
timely  assistance,  my  dear.  He  told  me  on 
the  way  here.  I  cannot  thank  you  enough. 
We  must  be  the  best  of  friends." 

Breta's   equanimity  returning  with   Miss  de 


126  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Grey's  warmth  of  manner,  they  seated  them- 
selves in  the  chairs  Mr.  Whyte,  in  his  roseate 
way,  offered  them. 

"  I  see,  Miss  Garnet,"  said  Selma,  "  you  are 
looking  at  Judith.  Having  made  up  my  mind 
to  come,  I  did  not  rest  until  I  had  hunted  up 
Judith  and  her  husband,  whose  great  recom- 
mendation is — they  are  deaf  and  dumb." 

"That — their  being  deaf — my  uncle  will  tell 
you,  Miss  de  Grey,  will  be  a  great  blessing  in 
this  house,"  replied  Breta,  laughing,  "  on  ac- 
count of — " 

"  Of  the  strange  noises,"  caught  up  Selma, 
quite  seriously.  "  I  could  not  endure  the 
thought  that  Mr.  Whyte  and  Joslyn  were  hav- 
ing to  perform  manual  labor.  Mr.  Black  told 
me  no  servant  would  stay  in  the  house,  and  I 
think  my  deaf  and  dumb  ones  will  prove  invalu- 
able." 

As  Selma  spoke,  de  Grey  entered  the  room, 
the  dreamy  warmth  of  his  eyes  lighting  into  a 
look  of  joyful  recognition  as  his  glance  fell  upon 
Breta.  But  he  greeted  her  with  a  manner  so 
free  from  surprise  at  finding  her  there,  that 
again  she  blessed  him  in  her  heart  for  his  per- 
fect good -breeding. 


Elmwood.  127 

"  I  am  afraid,  Selma,"  said  he,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  shoulder  with  brotherly  fondness, 
as  he  stood  up  before  her,  "you  will  find  the 
rooms  too  damp  to  sleep  in  without  a  day's 
sunshine  to  air  them.  Had  I  only  known— 

"  That  is  just  what  I  intended  to  av6id,  Jos- 
lyn,"  replied  she,  in  her  caressing  tone.  "  Let 
us  make  a  tour  up  stairs.  Will  you  go,  my 
dear  ?  "  and  Miss  de  Grey  put  her  arm  lovingly 
around  Breta's  slender  waist,  and  thus  together 
they  ascended  the  great  oaken  staircase  ;  fol- 
lowed by  Mr.  Whyte,  de  Grey,  and  Judith,  to 
whom  Miss  de  Grey  beckoned. 

Windows  were  opened,  and  Selma  could  not 
sufficiently  admire  the  massive,  old-time  furni- 
ture the  light  revealed.  Great  oaken  chests 
of  linen  and  presses  of  blankets  and  curtains 
received  attention,  and  Selma  declared  that  the 
rooms  were  not  only  delightful  but  in  perfect 
order. 

Mr.  Whyte  confessed  to  having  had  work- 
people from  time  to  time  brushing  and  clean- 
ing ;  "  always  by  the  day,  not  one  would  stay 
over  night,"  said  he  with  his  twisted  smile, 
"  but  as  the  mansion  is  built  of  stone,  and 
thoroughly  well  finished  throughout  with  the 


128  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

best  material,  and  is  well  guarded  by  locks, 
bars,  and  bolts,  it  has  suffered  but  little  in  the 
interior.  It  is  the  exterior,  as  I  explained  to 
Mr.  Black,  that  shows  the  effects  of  time  and 
mischievous  boys." 

During  the  investigation  and  the  choice  of 
her  rooms  by  Selma,  so  many  bright  remarks 
were  elicited  that  it  seemed  quite  like  an  enter- 
tainment gotten  up  purposely. 

When  they  returned  below  stairs,  Judith  was 
installed  in  the  great  kitchen,  where  her  hus- 
band had  built  a  roaring  fire  in  the  huge  old- 
fashioned  fireplace,  before  which  the  linen  was 
to  be  aired,  and  at  which  Judith  was  to  cook  a 
substantial  repast  of  viands  Miss  de  Grey  had 
taken  the  precaution  to  bring  with  her  in  cer- 
tain covered  baskets. 

"  But  where  are  your  strange  noises,  my 
dear  Breta;  I  hear  none."  Miss  de  Grey  had 
already  dropped  the  Miss  in  Breta's  favor,  mak- 
ing much  of  her,  as  a  lady  of  twenty-seven  or 
eight  may  a  valued  friend  much  younger. 

"  Breta  has  never  heard  them,  Miss  de 
Grey,"  said  Mr.  Whyte.  "  She  considers  them 
merely  dreams." 

"  Uncle  Ray  will   tell  you   where  he  keeps 


Elnrwood.  129 

these — dreams,  Miss  de  Grey,"  returned  Breta, 
adding :  "  I  was  wishing  an  hour  or  so  ago  that 
I  was  of  the  stuff  of  which  dreams  are  made." 

"  What,  when  we  came,  my  dear  Breta  ?  " 
asked  Selma. 

"  Just  imagine,  Miss  de  Grey :  I  being  in- 
veigled here  with  the  bait  of  old  music  scores 
just  from  Paris,  and  under  the  solemn  seal  of 
assurance  that  the  present  owner  of  the  house 
would  not  and  could  not  be  back  here  until  to- 
morrow,— just  imagine  my  alarm  when  the  car- 
riage drove  up  containing— 

"  Is  the  present  owner  of  the  house,  then, 
such  a  very  alarming  person,  Miss  Garnet?" 
asked  de  Grey,  laughing. 

"  Very  alarming, — on  his  own  grounds,"  said 
Breta. 

"  Oh,  Joslyn  is  not  at  all  dangerous,  I  assure 
you,  my  dear  Breta,"  insisted  Selma,  with  a  laugh, 
"  and  then  just  think,"  continued  she  in  her 
gracious,  confiding  way,  "  how  much  pleasure 
it  has  given  me  to  have  you  here  this  afternoon. 
And  I  have  a  great  request  to  make  of  you  : 
That  you  should  come  and  stay  here  with  me, 
right  along.  Will  you  ?  " 

De  Grey,  who  had  been  attentively  listening, 
looked  intently  at  Breta,  awaiting  her  reply. 


1 30  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"It  would  give  me  great  pleasure,  I  assure 
you,  Miss  de  Grey,  but  I  am  under  engagement 
to  Miss  Rutherford  for  another  month." 

"  But  if  I  should  send  Miss  Rutherford  some 
one  to  fill  your  place  ?  " 

"  Oh !  I  could  not  disappoint  Miss  Ruther- 
ford," returned  Breta. 

"  I  see  I  shall  have  to  be  content  to  come  for 
you  in  your  leisure  time,  for  which  I  shall 
plead,"  said  Selma,  in  a  winning  tone  of  appeal. 

While  she  was  speaking  a  summons  came  to 
dinner,  and  a  more  delightful  meal  was  never 
discussed  in  any  house  and  by  more  delightful 
people  than  that  served  in  the  great  dining- 
room  of  the  haunted  house  of  Elmwood. 

After  the  repast  was  over,  Breta  volunteering, 
she  and  Selma  went  up  stairs,  and,  assisted  by 
Judith,  Selma's  sleeping  and  dressing-rooms 
were  made  bright  with  curtains,  draperies,  and 
all  the  little  elegancies  and  delicate  toys  for 
mantel,  toilette,  bracket,  and  stand,  that  make 
daintily  appointed  rooms  so  charming. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  when  Mr.  Whyte  drove 
back  to  the  school  with  Breta,  and  on  the  way 
he  told  her  how  delighted  he  was  that  Miss  de 
Grey  had  come,  and  what  a  superior  woman  he 


Elmwood.  131 

thought  her.  "In  some  respects  quite  like  her 
brother,"  said  he.  "  And  I  consider  Joslyn  de 
Grey  as  grand  as  Rossini's  Stabat  Mater,  or 
one  of  Beethoven's  symphonies.  He  is  as  har- 
monious as  Gluck's  Orpheus,  and  the  Orphee 
laughs  all  through  it  with  inspired  harmony. 
He  is  altogether  too  fine  to  be  given  up  to — 
to  ghosts,"  concluded  little  Mr.  Whyte,  with  a 
snap  of  his  whip  that  startled  Flash  as  though 
one  of  the  apparitions  alluded  to  had  risen  up 
before  him. 

Breta  found  Miss  Rutherford  in  the  recep- 
tion-room with  seme  of  the  older  pupils  and 
teachers  listening  to  Miss  Bowers,  who  was 
then  sino-Jno-  Cherubini's  Ave  Maria. 

o       o 

"  I  must  say,  Miss  Garnet,  that  Miss  Bowers 
does  you  great  credit.  Her  voice  has  been 
mellowed  and  improved  under  your  admirable 
method,  until  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  hear  her 
sing.  I  suppose  you  have  been  hard  at  work 
trying  over  those  old  scores  of  which  your 
uncle  spoke  to  me." 

"We  tried  over  some  of  them,  Miss  Ruther- 
ford," returned  Breta.  "  The  septette  in  D  mi- 
nor of  Johan  Nepomuck  Hummel's,for  one,  with 
its  fine  third  movement — a  brilliant  scherzo. 


132  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

But  we  were  interrupted,"  and  Breta  related 
the  incidents  of  the  afternoon  and  evening. 

Miss  Rutherford,  saying  it  was  very  kind 
and  thoughtful  of  Miss  de  Grey  in  coming  to 
keep  house  for  her  brother,  astonished  Breta 
by  asking,  as  a  favor,  would  she  accompany 
her  to  Elmwood  immediately  after  breakfast  in 
the  morning. 

"  It  is  necessary  that  due  attention  should  be 
shown  Miss  de  Grey,"  said  Miss  Rutherford. 
"  I  can  manage  your  lessons,  my  dear  Miss 
Garnet.  I  shall  have  baskets  of  fruit  and  other 
edibles  prepared  to  take  in  the  carriage  with 
us,  as  Miss  de  Grey  will  find  some  difficulty  in 
procuring  such  things  until  she  gets  somewhat 
acquainted  with  our  markets  here.  Miss  de 
Grey  stands  high  in  New  York — the  whole  de 
Grey  family  do,  in  fact.  When  I  found  Mr. 
Joslyn  de  Grey  had  purchased  your  place  and 
was  coming  among  us,  I  took  pains  to  ascertain 
who  he  was,  but  finding  all  so  unexceptionable, 
I  deem  it  incumbent  upon  me  to  make  Miss  de 
Grey  feel  that  she  has  come  among  friends. 
Young  Mr.  de  Grey  is,  I  hear,  inclined  to  be 
somewhat  visionary,  but  bears  a  character  with- 
out a  flaw." 


Elmwood.  133 

How  Miss  Rutherford  obtained  all  her  infor- 
mation about  the  de  Greys  she  did  not  tell,  but 
Frank  Bovvers  said  in  a  characteristic  aside  to 
Breta,  on  their  way  up  to  the  dormitories,  that 
Miss  Rutherford  had  received  such  a  raft  of  let- 
ters that  morning,  the  postman  had  to  employ 
a  little  boy  to  help  him  carry  them. 

"  And  let  me  tell  you,  Breta,  Miss  Ruther- 
ford has  her  own  schemes  for  you.  You  are 
the  apple  of  her  eye  ;  and  she  is  resolved  to 
make  love  while  the  de  Greys  shine." 

The  carriage  was  at  the  door  promptly  after 
breakfast  the  next  morning ;  and  Miss  Ruther- 
ford, with  a  basket  of  choice  strawberries  in  her 
hand,  made  room  for  Breta  beside  her, — the 
coachman  having  charge  of  another  large  basket 
in  which  were  some  of  her  cook's  famous  apple- 
pies  and  other  dainties. 

"  Miss  de  Grey  must  be  some  punkins,  to 
make  Miss  Rutherford  spread  herself  so  exten- 
sively," remarked  Frank,  who  was  waving  her 
handkerchief  to  Breta  from  the  veranda,  as  the 
carriage  drove  off.  "Miss  Rutherford  would 
not  have  had  that  lemon  meringue  made  and 
put  in  the  basket  for  a  nobody." 

"  You  had  better  turn  French  cook  and  done 


1 34  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

with  it,  Frank  Bowers,"  said  Pella.  "  So  far  as 
language  is  concerned  you  would  have  nothing 
to  learn.  '  Some  punkins,'  how  excessively 
vulgar ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Pella,"  retorted  Frank,  "  I  should 
have  to  learn  to  say  it  in  French.  Punkins, 
citrouille,  feminine  gender.  But,  de  la  c^tro^lille 
would  not  express  the  American  idiom.  And 
then  I  should  have  to  wear  a  long  white  apron 
and  a  paper  cap.  Thanking  you  for  the  sug- 
gestion, on  the  whole  I  think  I  '11  not  turn 
French  cook." 

"  Pella  and  Frank,  stop  your  fighting  and  go 
to  quarrelling,  but  first  listen  to  some  news," 
said  Sadie  Burrill,  who  had  just  joined  the 
others  on  the  veranda. 

"  Well  ?  "  snapped  Pella. 

"  Only  this  :  Mis.s  Amanda — " 

"  Miss  High-manda,  Sadie,  Miss  High-man- 
da,"  interrupted  Frank,  with  a  mocking  gri- 
mace. 

"  Be  still,  Frank,  and  let  me  tell,"  said  Sadie, 
laughing. 

"  A  young  lady  of  nineteen,  and  so  rude  !  " 
sneered  Pella. 

"  Nineteen  or  ninety,  I  leave  it  to  every  one 


Elmwood.  135 

if  I  am  not  right.  Miss  High-manda  is  full  as 
tall  as  her  sister — two  regular  Lombardy  pop- 
lars." 

"  Do  go  on,  Sadie,  and  don't  mind  Frank  and 
her  poplars,"  urged  Pella.  "  What  did  Miss 
Amanda  say  ?  " 

"  That  the  picnic  is  to  be  put  off  till  this  day 
week,"  said  the  laughing  Sadie  ;  "  and  it  is  to 
be  a  grand  affair.  Miss  de  Grey  and  her  broth- 
er are  invited— 

"  Her  brother!  "  ejaculated  Pella.  "  Why,  he 
is  a  young  gentleman.  He  '11  be  sure  to  devour 
some  of  us.  We  're  not  even  to  see  a  young 
gentleman,  for  fear  of  having  our  morals  cor- 
rupted, but  are  to  be  kept  in  hermetically  sealed 
school-rooms,  and— 

"  Well,  Mr.  de  Grey  is  an  hermetic  philoso- 
pher ;  I  heard  Miss  Rutherford  say  so,"  inter- 
rupted Frank,  with  a  laugh. 

"  I  am  sure,  Pella,  Miss  Rutherford  is  very 
much  more  lenient  in  that  respect  than  the  prin- 
cipals of  most  boarding-schools,"  said  Sadie, 
pleasantly.  "  She  thinks  society  helps  form  our 
manners,  you  know  ;  and  she  is  constantly  in- 
viting young  ladies  and  their  brothers  and  their 
gentlemen  friends,  with  the  heads  of  their 


136  The  Benefit  of  the  DoubL 

families,  to  all  our  musicales,  and  our  readings, 
and  conversazioni— 

"  Do  let  Pella  growl,  Sadie,"  said  Frank. 

"  How  long  since  you  have  taken  up  the  cud- 
gels of  defence  in  behalf  of  Miss  Rutherford, 
Sadie  Burrill  ? "  demanded  Pella,  scornfully, 
ignoring  Frank's  remark. 

"Do  hear  Pella  talk  slang!"  exclaimed 
Frank.  "  '  Cudgels  of  defence  ! '  Quite  as  hor- 
rible as  '  some  punkins  ' !  But  come,  Sadie, 
never  mind  the  young  gentlemen  and  our  mor- 
als, what  else  did  Miss  Highmanda  say?  " 

"  Besides  the  elite  of  Lea — the  Judge  Wai- 
tons,  the  General  Leightons,  and  so  on  (the  de 
Greys,  of  course), — your  brother,  Frank,  and 
yours.  Pella — " 

"  My  brother,"  snapped  Pella,  "  is  in  Europe." 

"  And  mine  has  just  returned  from  Europe," 
said  Frank.  "  Tom  will  come,  for  I  shall  write 
to  him  myself,  and  that  will  bring  him.  It  will 
be  awfully  jolly.  I  shall  wear  my  new  navy- 
blue  flannel,  with  cardinal  bows  and  no  jewelry. 
There  is  nothing  so  out  of  taste  as  jewelry  on  a 
picnic.  Mamma  says  so,  and  she  knows." 

"You  are  so  very  dark,  Frank,  that  navy- 
blue  and  cardinal  are  the  only  colors  you  really 


Elmwood.  137 

can  wear.  I  shall  dress  in  white,  with  Marie 
Louise  blue  bows,  and  as  much  jewelry  as  I 
choose, — out  of  taste  indeed!  Your  mamma, 
forsooth  ! — and  I  shall  crimp  my  hair  and  wear 
it  down  my — 

"  Frank  looks  handsome  in  any  thing,  Pella,!' 
interrupted  Sadie,  "  and  handsomest  of  all  in 
white.  She  will  not  be  compelled  to  waste  time 
in  crimping  her  hair,  as  it  waves  so  beautifully 
naturally." 

"  Which,  as  you  well  know,  Sadie,"  returned 
Pella,  triumphantly,  '•  is  indicative  of  a  terrible 
temper." 

"  Le  vrai  n  'est  pas  tou jours  vraisemblable" 
mocked  Frank,  laughing,  as  with  an  arm  around 
Sadie's  waist  she  accompanied  her  to  the  school- 
room, the  bell  for  the  morning  classes  loudly 
ringing. 


IX. 

MY  QUEEN,  OR  NOT  MY  QUEEN. 

MISS  DE  GREY  and  her  brother,  with 
little  Mr.  Whyte,  were  sitting  out  on 
the  veranda  at  Elmwood  as  the  carriage  con- 
taining Miss  Rutherford  and  Bre.ta  drove  up. 
As  de  Grey  looked  up  his  face  became  suddenly 
illuminated  ;  he  rose  hastily  to  assist  them  from 
the  carriage,  his  eyes,  as  he  went  forward,  meet- 
ing Breta's  in  a  quick  telegraphic  signal,  so  inex- 
plicable, so  unnoticed  by  others,  and  yet  so  full 
of  import  to  the  owners  of  the  two  pairs  of  eyes 
thus  meeting. 

It  was  Breta,  de  Grey  helped  down  first,  she 
being  nearest,  and  then  Miss  Rutherford,  who, 
good  lady,  saw  nothing,  having  eyes  only  to  the 
safety  of  her  baskets. 

Selma  welcomed  Breta  warmly  with  a  kiss  on 
either  cheek,  and  won  Miss  Rutherford's  favor- 
able opinion  by  her  admirable  finish  of  manner. 

138 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.          139 

They  were  all  seated  on  the  veranda,  as  being 
pleasanter  that  warm  June  morning  than  the 
drawing-room ;  and  Selma  was  interrupted  in 
something  she  was  saying  to  Miss  Rutherford 
by  two  women  with  scrubbing  brushes  and 
pails,  who  came  to  ask  her  questions  about  their 
work,  and  were  referred  to  Judith. 

"  They  are  all  very  willing  to  come  during 
the  daylight  it  seems,"  Selma  explained,  "  and 
my  deaf-and-dumb  Judith  writes  her  orders  to 
them  on  the  slate.  Nothing  makes  any  differ- 
ence, it  appears,  with  the  unseen  residents  of 
the  house  how  many  visible  people  are  at  work 
in  it.  I  feared  at  first  that  the  work-people 
might  interfere  with  brother  Joslyn's  projects, 
until  Mr.  Whyte  assured  me  to  the  contrary." 

"  Nothing  has  ever  made  any  difference,"  re- 
turned Mr.  Whyte,  with  his  twisted  smile. 
"  They — the  unseen  residents,  as  you  call  them 
— come  and  go  at  their  own  sweet  will — that  is, 
if  their  will  can  be  said  to  be  sweet.  It  has 
been  amusing  to  see  those  I  employed  take 
fright  and  rush  from  the  house  like  deer. 
Once,  when  two  women  were  at  work  cleaning, 
we  had  a  merry  time.  Said  one  :  '  I  can  stand 
it,  Lize,  as  long  as  you  kin.  It  's  only  a  little 
talking  and  noise,  and  that  don't  hurt  nobody.' 


140  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  '  It 's  only  jest  some  pesky  boys  the  little  gen- 
tleman hires  to  frighten  folks.  I  ain't  afeard.' 

"  'Jest  you  stick  to  that,  Lize,  like  grim  death  ; 
noise  ain't  nothin.' 

"  An  Indian  war-whoop  sounding  through  the 
house  just  then  cut  off  the  reply  of  '  Lize,'  and 
they  both  rushed  down  stairs  and  past  me  (I 
was  out  here  noting  music),  looking  like  two 
hunted,  wild  animals.  They  came  again  the 
next  day  though,  brave  as  sheep,  and  hearing 
nothing,  they  went  home  before  dark,  feeling, 
as  they  said,  so  '  pop-sure  '  that  some  '  dratted 
boys '  were  hidden  up  stairs,  that  I  found  my- 
self quite  imbued  with  their  idea." 

Miss  Rutherford  spoke  long  and  learnedly 
about  the  just-discovered  telephone.  As  she 
concluded,  de  Grey  had  an  admirable  oppor- 
tunity to  enlarge  upon  his  own  peculiar  views, 
had  he  chosen  to  embrace  it.  But  he  was  so 
manifestly  occupied,  eyes,  thought,  and  speech, 
ostensibly  in  showing  Breta  some  curios, — 
exquisite  Japanese  carvings, — that  he  seemed 
more  inclined  to  embrace  her  than  the  oppor- 
tunity to  explain  to  Miss  Rutherford. 

The  carvings  were  a  set  of  boxes  within 
boxes  that  he  had  taken  from  the  window-sill, 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My   Queen.          141 

where  other  Japanese  bric-a-brac  were  lying 
partly  unpacked,  and  were  so  intricate  and  deli- 
cate in  workmanship  it  seemed  as  though  hu- 
man hands  could  not  have  fashioned  them. 

Talking  to  Breta  in  low  tones  that  would  not 
disturb  the  conversation  of  the  others,  his  words 
contained  the  simple  description  only  of  how  he 
came  across  them  when  in  Yokohama.  But  as 
it  is  how  words  are  uttered  that  furnishes  the 
subtle  indication  of  the  feeling  lying  back  of 
them,  so  every  word  of  de  Grey's  that  morning 
revealed  to  Breta  the  interest,  the  intense  inter- 
est, he  felt  in  her. 

Another  of  Miss  de  Grey's  women  wishing 
her  presence,  in  her  placid,  pleasant  manner 
she  asked  Miss  Rutherford  if  she  would  not 
like  to  see  her  rooms. 

"  It  is  just  what  I  wished  to  propose,"  replied 
Miss  Rutherford,  "  as  I  have  never  seen  the 
mysterious  interior  of  Elmwood." 

Miss  Rutherford  admired  the  spacious,  airy 
apartments  with  their  large  oriel  windows,  and 
with  Miss  de  Grey  as  cicerone  went  all  through 
the  house  ;  the  immense  and  gorgeously  ap- 
pointed drawing-rooms,  library,  and  dining- 
rooms  especially  meeting  her  approval. 


142  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

While  they  were  gone,  de  Grey  made  the 
most  of  his  time,  continuing  his  conversation 
with  Breta,  little  Mr.  Whyte  occasionally  drop- 
ping a  quaintly  pertinent  remark.  But  Mr. 
Whyte's  presence  seemed  no  check  to  either ; 
on  the  contrary,  innocent  and  fresh  himself,  up 
in  all  topics  of  interest,  and  unobtrusive  and  as- 
similative in  nature,  he  gave  Breta  more  con- 
fidence ;  and  she  sustained  her  part  of  the  con- 
versation with  a  brightness  and  originality  that 
charmed  de  Grey  more  and  more. 

It  is  quite  a  matter  of  wonder  how  much  can 
be  said  and  lived  in  a  short  time.  When  the 
ladies  returned,  it  seemed  to  Breta  they  had 
been  gone  for  hours,  she  felt  herself  so  fully  re- 
vealed, and  so  entirely  understood,  and  she 
admired  so  greatly  the  character  that  had  re- 
vealed itself  to  her. 

Miss  Rutherford  introducing  the  picnic,  Sel- 
ma  de  Grey  took  it  up  warmly,  wishing  to  share 
the  trouble  and  expense.  "  Let  me  see  to  the 
ices  and  fruits.  I  will  send  to  New  York  for 
them,"  said  she.  "  Where  are  the  grounds  ?  " 

o 

"  At  Rocky  Glen,  a  spot  about  three  miles 
from  the  village.  We  are  to  be  there  quite 
early,  at  eight  o'clock— on  the  children's  ac- 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.          143 

count, — to  start  at  seven  from  the  seminary, 
and  the  day  is  one  week  from  to-day." 

"The  railroad  passes  by  it,  does  it  not?" 
asked  de  Grey. 

"  The  railroad  runs  by  the  spot  at  a  little  dis- 
tance, but  does  not  mar  its  attractiveness,  rocks 
and  dense  foliage  screening-  it — it  is  one  of  the 
most  secluded  places  imaginable." 

"  I  was  riding  through  it  this  morning,"  ob- 
served de  Grey  ;  "  as  picturesque  a  spot  as  I  re- 
member ever  to  have  seen  ;  reminding  me  of 
the  forest- nooks  in  Germany." 

Miss  Rutherford  incited  de  Grey  to  giving 
some  descriptions  of  German  scenery  ;  and  then, 
rising  to  go,  her  coachman,  who  had  been 
wandering  around  the  grounds  and  had  just  re- 
turned, handed  down  the  baskets  at  her  re- 
quest ;  she  concluding  her  apology  for  bringing 
the  trifles,  by  saying  :  "  I  knew,  Miss  de  Grey, 
you  must  be  in  more  or  less  confusion  for  a  day 
or  so." 

4<  Do  not  apologize,  Miss  Rutherford,  for  so 
acceptable  and  opportune  a  gift,"  responded  de 
Grey  ;  "  Selma  has  just  been  lamenting  that  she 
could  not  provide  a  better  dinner  for  us  than 
she  confesses  we  are  to  have  to-day." 


144  The  Benefit  of  the  Doiibt. 

"  It  is  so  new  to  me  here  as  yet ;  and,  be  as 
philosophic  as  gentlemen  may,  I  have  never 
found  them  objecting  to  a  good  dinner,"  said 
Selma,  with  a  bright  laugh. 

As  de  Grey  assisted  Miss  Rutherford  and 
Breta  back  into  the  carriage,  Miss  Rutherford 
handed  Selma  the  addresses  of  the  best  bakers, 
butchers,  and  grocers  in  Lea,  and- the  carriage 
drove  off;  Breta  carrying  back  to  the  school 
with  her  a  last  look  from  de  Grey's  dark  eyes 
that  made  the  little  commonplaces  of  Miss 
Rutherford  difficult  to  follow,  although  she  re- 
lated in  choice  language  the  traditionary  legend 
connected  with  Rocky  Glen. 

From  that  time  de  Grey  caused  it  so  to 
chance  that  he  passed  some  part  of  each  day  in 
Breta's  presence.  The  programme  was  a  drive 
every  afternoon, — his  carriage  and  fine  span  of 
horses  he  having  had  sent  to  him  from  the  city, 
—and  inviting  his  sister  to  accompany  him,  and 
suggesting  to  her  the  expediency  of  calling  for 
Miss  Garnet  on  their  way — Selma's  sudden 
fondness  for  Breta  deepening  with  each  sight 
of  her, — all  worked  harmoniously. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Thursday  Miss  Ruther- 
ford accompanied  them,  and  on  Friday  after- 


My  Qiieen,  or  Not  My  Queen.         146 

noon  the  de  Greys,  having  called  somewhat  ear- 
lier, heard  the  conclusion  of  Frank's  singing 
lesson ;  the  other  pianos  of  the  school  being  oc- 
cupied with  practising  pupils,  Breta  was  hearing 
her  in  the  parlor. 

Selma,  much  struck  with  Frank's  voice  and 
method,  spoke  of  it  when  she  had  concluded 
her  lesson ;  she  had  been  singing  quite  effec- 
tively, Mozart's  Agjms  Dei  in  Mass  C. 

"  Due  entirely  to  Miss  Garnet,  I  assure  you, 
Miss  de  Grey,  for  I  sang  like  a  hoot-owl  four 
years  ago.  She, — Miss  Garnet, — had  a  time  of 
it  in  making  me  understand  the  difference  be- 
tween pure  tones  and  guttural  tones,  for  I  sang  all 
in  my  throat.  I  scarcely  knew  I  had  a  larynx, 
let  alone  that  I  must  not  permit  the  air  column 
from  the  lungs  to  remain  in  the  larynx,  forcing 
those  hideous,  howling  tones  that  are  so  excruci- 
atingly horrid.  I  had  an  awful  time  in  learn- 
ing how  to  take  my  tones  above,  instead  of  be- 
low the  glottis,  with  the  glottis-stroke.  And  as 
for  my  tongue, — all  I  knew  was  how  to  gabble 
with  it  ;  and  to  learn  that  it  must  lie  easily  and 
naturally  on  the  floor  of  my  mouth,  with  the  tip 
just  touching  my  front  teeth  (and  not  to  curl  up 
into  a  spoon,  as  I  made  it),  was  preposterous  to 


146  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

me  then.  You  see,  Miss  de  Grey,  I  was  never 
one  of  those  fortunate  ones  who  groove  into  the 
right  way  by  instinct ;  the  wrong  way  is  so 
much  easier  and  pleasanter,  at  least  for  one's 
self.  Other  people's  ears  used  to  be  fearfully 
scorched  by  my  singing,  I  being  the  only  one 
who  thoroughly  enjoyed  it." 

Miss  Bowers  said  this  in  her  off-hand  way, 
leaving  Selma,  as  she  left  every  one,  in 
doubt  if  she  were  fully  in  earnest,  but  never  in 
doubt  whether  or  not  to  laugh — for  the  laugh 
she  evoked  when  she  so  wished  was  always  in- 
evitable. 

"  Then  I  am  to  infer  you  regret  your  present 
finished  style  of  singing  ?  "  asked  Selma. 

"  Miss  de  Grey,  I  never  nursed  a  dear  ga- 
zelle, but  I  nursed  a  dear  monkey  once,  that 
papa  brought  me  from  Brazil.  That  monkey 
was  like  my  voice  at  that  time,  making  no  one 
'  glad '  but  myself.  Now  that  with  infinite 
nursing  I  have  acquired  a  decent  method,  why, 
of  course,  I  value  it.  But  it  was  the  labor,  you 
see, — I  detesting  work." 

"  Miss  Bovvers,  I  wish  you  would  accompany 
us  in  our  drive  this  afternoon,  and  we  will  discuss 
the  labor  question,"  proposed  Selma,  smiling. 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.          147 

Frank  declined  the  invitation,  thanking  Selma 
in  so  lady-like  a  way  as  showed  she  could  be 
exceedingly  well  bred  on  occasion. 

"  I  see,  Miss  Garnet,"  said  de  Grey,  who  had 
been  turning  over  music,  "  you  go  to  the  foun- 
tain source.  Do  you  bring  up  all  your  pupils 
on  Mozart,  Cherubini,  Rossini,  Gluck,  Handel, 
and  the  great  masters  I  find  here  ?  " 

"  Always  when  I  can,  and  when  I  cannot  I 
descend  to  lesser  masters,"  said  Breta,  with  la 
laugh,  adding  :  "  But  if  you  have  an  idea  of 
entering  as  a  pupil,  Mr.  de  Grey,  I  will  promise 
not  to  teach  you  any  thing  but  the  most  severely 
classical — " 

"  You  will  do  well  to  avail  yourself  of  Miss 
Garnet's  instruction,"  said  Frank  in  a  meaning 
way  that  caused  a  laugh. 

"  If  I  thought  Miss  Rutherford  would  take 
me,"  hesitated  de  Grey.  "  But  I  am  afraid  I 
should  be  like  the  rest,  Miss  Garnet,  and  stipu- 
late for  an  occasional  '  tune,'  Blumenthal's 
'  My  Queen  '  for  one." 

"  I  doubt  if  Breta  would  give  it  to  you,  Mr. 
de  Grey  ;  she  has  a  way  of  having  her  own  will, 
and  so  easily  that  you  knock  under, — that  is,  I 
mean,  of  course  (and  Frank  laughed  at  her  own 


148  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

expense),  you  are  converted  to  her  views  before 
you  know  it.  I  used  to  rebel  against  those 
poky  old  masses  of  the  old  masters,  until  at 
last  I  fairly  learned  to  love  them.  I  was  a  very 
troublesome  pupil,  and  Breta  being  no  older 
than  myself — but  a  century  in  advance  of  me  in 
acquirement — had,  as  I  said,  a  time  of  it  in 
forming  my  taste.  I  hope  you  won't  be  so  re- 
bellious a  pupil." 

"  I  was  always  noted  for  docility,  was  I  not, 
Selma  ?  "  said  de  Grey. 

"  Always,  Joslyn  ;  docilly  determined  to 
carry  your  point,  and  in  such  a  thoroughly 
docile  way  I  always  found  you  always  gained 
it,"  replied  Selma,  with  a  loving  smile. 

"  So  I  should  judge,"  added  Breta,  with  a 
quick,  responsive  laugh.  "  Mr.  de  Grey  seems 
to  me  one  more  than  usually  firm  of  pur- 
pose, one  who  would  literally  go  through  fire  for 
a  sufficient  object,  and — " 

"  And — pray  proceed,  Miss  Garnet,"  urged 
de  Grey,  smiling  down  with  a  steady  look  into 
Breta's  eyes  ;  the  very  steadiness  of  his  look 
and  the  position  of  his  head,  that  brought  out 
the  firm  lines  of  his  mouth  and  chin,  proving 
the  correctness  of  the  assertion. 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My   Queen. 

But  Breta  ventured  no  more,  and  Frank  ex- 
claimed : 

"  That  being  conceded,  Mr.  de  Grey,  it  will 
be  '  My  Queen '  or  not  '  My  Queen '  ;  and  who 
yields  the  point  time  will  show." 

"  Pardon  my  curiosity,  Miss  Bowers,"  said 
de  Grey  in  his  quietest  manner,  ignoring  the 
point  Frank  had  just  made  with  so  much  ap- 
parent innocence.  "  But  on  the  stairs,  as  we 
came  in,  we  encountered  a  young  lady  with  a 
Greek  face,  and  a  profusion  of  golden-red  hair. 
In  features,  like  the  picture  on  exhibition,  of 
Garafelia  Mohalbi,  who,  it  is  said,  was  bought 
out  of  Turkish  persecution  and  adopted  as  his 
own  daughter  by  a  Boston  gentleman,  some 
years  ago." 

"  Her  name  is  Pella  Morton ;  she  is  con- 
sidered remarkably  handsome,"  replied  Frank. 

"  So  I  should  suppose,"  assented  de  Grey. 
But  although  his  words  assented,  his  tone  im- 
plied a  mental  reservation  that  did  not  escape 
the  observation  of  either  FYank  or  Breta. 

"  Joslyn,"  said  Selma,  tapping  her  brother's 
arm  lightly  with  her  fan,  "  we  might  chat  here 
all  the  afternoon,  and  be  delightfully  enter- 
tained. Do  join  with  me  in  prevailing  on  Miss 


1 5o  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Bowers  to  accompany  us,  that  we  may  continue 
our  pleasant  talk  in  the  carriage." 

"It  has  been  hinted  that  I  get  my  own  way, 
Miss  Bowers,"  urged  de  Grey,  turning  from 
Breta  toward  Frank.  "  Now  my  will  is  that 
you  accept  Selma's  invitation,  and  if  Miss  Gar- 
net, who  always  has  her  own  will,  would  kindly 
join  me  in  urging,  you  certainly  must  comply." 

Selma,  who,  in  her  gentle,  easy  way,  having 
risen  to  go,  and  was  standing  beside  Breta,  and 
petting  her  pretty  brown  hair  with  her  fair,  soft 
hand,  looked  with  a  pleasant  smile  from  one  to 
another. 

"  You  make  me  ashamed  of  my  refusal,"  re- 
lented Frank. 

"  I  knew  you  could  not  find  it  in  your  heart 
to  persevere  in  it,"  declared  Breta. 

"  It  will  be  delightful,  and  I  shall  be  delighted 

o  o 

with  the  drive  of  course,  and — .  But,"  faltered 
Frank,  "  I  did  not  like  to  feel  I  owed  my  invita- 
tion just  to  the  chance  of  Miss  de  Grey's  hap- 
pening on  me  in  the  parlor.  I  will  ask  Miss 
Rutherford's  permission." 

The  permission  gained,  Frank  appeared  with 
Breta,  both  hatted  and  gloved. 

The  drive  proved  a  pleasant  one,  and  as  they 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My   Queen.          i5i 

were  returning,  a  horseman,  overtaking  the  car- 
riage and  recognizing  its  inmates,  wheeled  his 
horse  around  and  discovered  to  them  the  hand- 
some features  of  Noel  Dunraven. 

The  whole  manoeuvre  could  not  have  been 
surpassed  in  elegance,  and  Dunraven  never 
showed  to  better  advantage.  He  was  dressed 
in  full  riding  costume,  his  abundant  waving 
blonde  hair  mingling  artistically  with  his  blonde 
beard.  And,  mounted  on  a  fine  spirited  horse  of 
the  largest  size  and  most  perfect  proportions,  he 
himself  of  the  largest  size  and  most  perfect  pro- 
portions, horse  and  man  looked  as  though  made 
expressly  each  for  the  other.  He  rode,  not  in  the 
modern  English  style  of  rising  in  the  stirrups, 
but  in  the  old  Grecian  method  of  horsemanship, 
having  achieved  by  much  practice  that  method 
as  most  in  accordance  with  his  conception  of  the 
needs  of  the  Renaissance.  Like  the  old  Gre- 
cian warriors,  who  might  have  been  Centaurs,  so 
a  part  of  their  horses  did  they  seem,  he  rode  as 
though  all  his  life  he  might  have  dined,  supped, 
breakfasted,  and  slept  in  his  saddle. 

"  An  uncommonly  fine  rider,"  commented 
Selma,  as  Dunraven,  with  a  sweeping  bow,  hat 
in  hand,  passed  on.  "  Brother  Joslyn  and  Ben- 


i  52  Tke  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

jamin — Mr.  Black — I  have  always  been  proud 
of  as  good  horsemen,  but  this  gentleman's  rid- 
ing can  only  be  called  the  perfection  of  eques- 
trian grace.  Pray  who  is  he  ?  " 

"  He  is  my  cousin,  Noel  Dunraven,"  replied 
Breta,  quietly.  But  though  she  spoke  with  so 
little  emotion,  a  shadow  had  crossed  the  bright- 
ness of  her  face  and  left  her  eyes  with  a  troub- 
led look  in  them. 

De  Grey  lapsed  into  almost  utter  silence, 
making  only  an  occasional  abstracted  remark  ; 
the  absorbed  expression  of  his  face,  paler  than 
its  wont,  deepening  as  they  proceeded.  The 
conversation  was  carried  on  quite  briskly  by 
Selma  and  Frank ;  de  Grey's  reticence  and 
Breta's  far-off  look  and  manner  passing  unno- 
ticed. 

On  arriving  at  the  seminary,  they  found  Noel 
Dunraven  sitting  on  the  veranda  in  conversa- 
tion with  Miss  Rutherford.  He  came  forward 
with  the  proportions  of  Hercules  and  the  grace 
of  the  Jeune  Apollo  toward  the  carriage, — de 
Grey  having  just  assisted  the  ladies  to  alight, — 
and  walked  up  the  veranda  steps  by  the  side  of 
Breta,  leaving  de  Grey  to  follow  with  Frank. 

Miss  de  Grey,  who  had  preceded  the  others, 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.          163 

was  asking  of  Miss  Rutherford  the  pleasure  of 
Breta's  company,  with  that  of  Frank,  for  the 
day  on  the  morrow,  it  being  Saturday,  the  usual 
school  holiday. 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Miss  de  Grey,"  re- 
plied Miss  Rutherford,  suavely.  "  I  am  delight- 
ed that  the  young  ladies  should  have  so  pleas- 
ant a  change  from  the  monotony  of  school  life." 

Being  introduced  to  Dunraven  by  Breta,  Miss 
de  Grey,  always  bent  on  making  every  one 
happy,  included  him  also  in  her  invitation. 

"  You  do  not  come  any  more  to  Elmwood, 
Mr.  Dunraven  ;  I  find  your  uncle  misses  you. 
Pray  do  not  let  my  being  there  frighten  you 
off;  I  am  not  at  all  a  formidable  person,  I  as- 
sure you.  Shall  we  not  expect  you  to-mor- 
row ?  " 

With  a  gratefully  graceful  acknowledgment 
of  Miss  de  Grey's  kindness,  Dunraven,  regret- 
ting a  prior  engagement  in  New  York  for  the 
morning,  expressed  himself  as  being  only  too 
happy  to  avail  himself  of  her  invitation,  and 
would  certainly  be  at  Elmwood  late  in  the  after- 
noon. 

The  trouble  had  not  left  Breta's  eyes.  She 
was  standing  beside  de  Grey,  and  they  were 


1 54  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

interchanging  a  few  commonplace  remarks, 
when,  on  a  motion  to  go,  from  his  sister,  his 
eyes  meeting  those  of  Breta,  a  whole  volume 
of  unspoken  words  were  uttered  by  both  in  one 
of  those  sudden  mutual  glances  that  come  into 
eyes  perhaps  once  in  a  lifetime. 

And  de  Grey  conducted  his  sister  to  the  car- 
riage, she  telling  Miss  Rutherford  that  she 
should  send  for  the  young  ladies  quite  early  in 
the  morning. 

As  they  drove  off,  Dunraven,  in  an  exquisite- 
ly picturesque  attitude,  was  bending  his  tall 
form  over  Breta,  saying  something  in  which  he 
was  apparently  much  interested. 

"It  would  really  be  worth  while,"  observed 
Selma  to  her  brother,  "  to  make  a  study  of  this 
new  aesthetic  cult — new  and  old,  that  is — if 
one  could  realize  the  ideal  in — in  external  grace, 
the  perfect  rhythm  of  movement  that  Mr.  Dun- 
raven  has  achieved.  His  dress  and  manners 
are  a  living  protest  against  the  incongruousness, 
the  almost  total  lack  of  this  age  in  good  taste, 
in  favor  of  the  lost  beautiful  of  the  old  Renais- 
sance." 

"  Yes,  without  doubt,"  acquiesced  de  Grey, 
absently.  Recalling  his  wandering  thoughts 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.         i55 

from  Breta's  last  look,  so  significant,  to  a 
sense  of  his  sister's  remark,  he  qualified  his 
assent :  "  That  is,  if  the — external  grace,  the — 
rhythm  of  movement,  and  that,"  said  he,  with  a 
touch  of  burlesque  in  his  tone,  "  be  not  in  ex- 
cess of  the  lost  beautiful  so  cherished  by  the 
masters  of  those  mediaeval  and  old  Greek 
times ;  which,  by  the  way,  always  found  its 
choicest  expression  in  the  simply  natural." 

"  Oh,  it  is  the  simply  natural  you  wish,"  re- 
turned Selma,  laughing.  "  You  have  only  to  go 
to  our  farm-houses,  where  people  (of  sterling 
worth  certainly)  cultivate,  corn  rather  than  clas- 
sical costumes,  and  potatoes  rather  than  poetic 
postures.  Still,  although  there  can  be  no  genu- 
ine expression  of  beauty  that  does  not  emanate 
from  faith  in  nature  and  earnest  seeking  after 
the  real,  the  true,  yet  the  very  effort  to  train 
the  imagination  in  the  outward  requirements  of 
this  ideal,  must  raise  the  standard  of  moral  ex- 
cellence." 

"  You  always  were  wonderfully  logical,  Sel- 
ma. But  I  suppose  now,  although  your  dress 
and  manners  are  simply  perfect,  a  model  for 
the  rising  generation  of  young  ladies,  we  may 
expect  to  see  you  in  Boticellian  costume  and 


1 56  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

stained-glass  attitudes,  with  a  choice  bouquet 
of  sun-flowers  on  your  breast,  and— 

"  Certainly,"  interrupted  Selma,  laughing,  "  I 
always  was  an  extremist,  you  know.  But  you 
must  admit  that  Mr.  Dunraven  has  nothing 
about  him  of  the  extreme  of  that  fashionable 
ultra-sestheticism.  He  does  not  belong  to  the 
sun-flower  school  ;  he  's  neither  Boticellian  in 
dress  nor  stained  glass  in  attitude." 

"  I  admit,"  conceded  de  Grey,  looking  down 
into  his  sister's  face  with  a  peculiar  smile, 
"  Mr.  Dunraven  is  all  you  say.  He  is  highly 
cultured,  remarkably  handsome  and  well  dressed 
— perhaps  a  little  too  well  dressed.  He  should 
receive  the  title  of  Admirable  the  second,  suc- 
cessor to  Crichton." 

"  How  unlike  you,  Joslyn, — you  always  so 
free  from  unreasonable  prejudices.  You  have 
taken  a  most  unaccountable  dislike  to  poor  Mr. 
Dunraven.  I  cannot  understand  it,"  said  Sel- 
ma, with  much  simplicity,  regarding  her  brother 
wonderingly. 

De  Grey  paid  great  attention  to  the  paces  of 
the  high-stepping  horses  he  was  driving  for  a 
moment,  bearing  the  scrutiny  of  his  sister's 
eyes  without  change  of  muscle. 


My  Queen,  or  Not  My  Queen.         167 

"  I  shall  look  well  into  this,  Selma,"  said  he, 
seriously.  "An  unreasonable  prejudice  is  the 
poorest  investment  in  the  world." 

"  He  being  Mr.  Whyte's.  nephew  too,  you 
know,"  deprecatingly  continued  she.  "  We 
shall  see  a  great  deal  of  him  of  course.  He 
comes  to-morrow,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day. 
It  will  be  so  pleasant  for  Breta  to  meet  him  at 
the  old  place.  You  know  they  are  not  really 
cousins,  although  they  were  almost  brought  up 
together,  Mr.  Whyte  thinking  so  much  of  his 
wife's  sister's  son." 

"  I  see,"  said  de  Grey,  assenting  to  his  sis- 
ter's plans  for  making  it  pleasant  for  her  guests, 
and  listening  to  her  responsively  as  she  still 
continued  the  fruitful  theme — possibly  as  a  self- 
imposed  penance  for  his  "  unreasonable  preju- 
dices." 


X. 

A   STRATEGIC    ARRANGEMENT. 

DURING  the  day  at  Elmwood,  Frank,  de- 
veloping remarkable  strategic  powers, 
contrived  to  leave  Breta  and  de  Grey  alone  to- 
gether several  times,  manoeuvring  with  such  tact 
that  not  even  Breta  suspected  her  design.  In 
this  Frank  took  the  heroic  pride  of  a  martyr, 
immolating  on  the  shrine  of  friendship  that 
which  her  self-seeking-  instincts  would  have 

o 

prompted,   and  without  the  satisfaction  of  re- 
ceiving any  credit  for  her  sacrifice. 

They  had  all  taken  a  long  drive  in  the  morn- 
ing, exploring  new  and  wild  regions,  little  Mr. 
Whyte  accompanying  them  ;  and  after  return- 
ing, Frank,  becoming  suddenly  interested  in 
some  music  scores,  induced  Selma,  ever  ready 
for  Mr.  Whyte's  violin,  to  go  with  her  to  Mr. 
Whyte's  study  and  hear  him  play  them.  And 
for  her  reward  they  were  executed  so  charm- 

158 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  i5g 

ingly  that  she  was  intensely  interested  in  spite 
of  herself. 

The  melodious  strains  floated  in  through  the 

•windows  of  the  drawing-room  where  Breta  and 

de  Grey   were  sitting,  and  though  conversing 

delightfully,  never  once  touching  on  the  subject 

Frank  had  selected  in  her  own  mind  for  them. 

It  was  in  the  afternoon,  after  lunch,  that, 
taking  a  stroll  around  the  tangled  grounds, 
Selma  was  expatiating  with  great  enthusiasm 
on  the  plan  she  and  Joslyn  had  of  restoring  the 
old  place  to  its  pristine  order,  and  having 
arrived  at  the  knoll  under  the  great  elms,  they 
seated  themselves  on  the  old  carved  seats, 
where  the  cool  breezes  were  forever  playing. 

The  vast  extent  of  the  prospect  before  them, 
bounded  by  the  purple  mists  and  the  blue 
shadowy  mountain  range  ;  the  varied  beauty  of 
the  seventy  odd  miles  of  valley  below  them, 
with  its  picturesque  villages,  streams,  and  for- 
ests, gave  them  something  always  to  study. 
And  conversation  flagging,  Breta,  her  large, 
clear  eyes  shining  like  stars,  seemed  to  lose 
herself  in  contemplation  of  the  view.  Selma 
looked  admiringly  upon  her,  and  as  she  chanced 
to  glance  from  her  to  Joslyn,  she  saw  in  his 


160  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

eyes,  which  were  attentively  regarding  Breta,  a 
certain  inscrutable  something  that  suddenly 
caused  a  light  to  break  in  on  her  comprehen- 
sion. She  seemed  a  little  bewildered  by  it  at 
first,  and  then  evidently  recalling  many  un- 
heeded little  points  of  the  past  few  days,  her 
face  settled  into  a  well-satisfied  expression. 

Frank  had  watchfully  noted  and  understood 
Selma's  chain  of  thought,  and  a  few  moments 
after,  when  Judith,  Selma's  deaf-and-dumb  maid, 
appeared,  intimating  that  Miss  de  Grey  was 
needed  at  the  house,  she  rose  to  go  also. 

"  I  am  dying  for  the  second  volume  of  this," 
exclaimed  Frank,  giving  the  book  she  held  in 
her  hand,  with  a  slender  forefinger  shut  in  as  a 
mark,  a  graceful  little  outward  sway.-  "  I  have 
galloped  through  this  first  volume  between 
whiles,  and  I  must  see  how  the  hero  and  heroine 
get  out  of  their  troubles,  and  who  gets  who  in 
the  end."  And  Frank  drew  Selma's  arm  within 
her  own,  and  sauntered  off  with  her  toward  the 
house. 

Breta  was  silent  for  a  time,  apparently  still 
studying  the  broad  landscape.  De  Grey  was 
silent  also,  sufficiently  well  content  to  study 
her,  the  repose  of  her  exquisitely  moulded 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  161 

features  evidently  possessing  a  rare  charm  for 
him. 

"  This  view  has  a  wonderful  attraction  for 
me  ;  it  always  brings  up  a  crowd  of  half- 
forgotten  recollections  and  suggestions  of  future 
possibilities,"  observed  Breta,  quietly,  looking 
up  at  de  Grey. 

"  Such  as  "-  -  prompted  he. 

"  Oh !  I  doubt  if  I  could  find  words  to  make 
them  intelligible.  It  is  so  easy  to  think — 
dream  I  mean — and  so  difficult  to  put  vague 
dreams  into  a  presentable  shape  in  words." 

"  Then  you  should  sing  them,  Miss  Garnet. 
There  is  a  world  you  say  when  you  sing.  I 
thought,  on  that  first  Sunday  I  heard  you,  that 
I  had  never  before  understood  those  inspired 
words.  To  be  able  to  express  the  full  import 
of  beautiful  words,  in  tones  so  cultured  that 
the  labor  of  the  culture  is  lost  in  the  spon- 
taneity of  utterance,  is  the  perfection  of  art, 
allied  to  the  divine  gift  of  nature." 

"  You  at  least,  Mr.  de  Grey,  are  at  no  loss,  I 
see,  for  words  with  which  to  express  your 
thoughts,"  said  Breta,  with  a  light  laugh. 

"  I  accept  only  the  flattering  letter  of  your 
unrhymed  epigram,  Miss  Garnet ;  I  reject  utter- 


1 62  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ly  its  satirical  spirit,"  responded  de  Grey,  laugh- 
ing with  a  keen  relish  of  her  pointed  speech 
and  its  accompanying  smile.  "  But  really,  I 
have  been  for  the  past  five  or  six  years  so  de- 
voted to  scientific  study  that  the  thoughts  and 
dreams  of  young  ladies  have  formed  but  a  small 
part  of  my  life.  I  confess  to  some  curiosity  on 
the  point." 

"  As  a  matter  of  scientific  study  ?  "  asked 
Breta,  with  a  bright,  upward  look.  "  But  it  would 
scarcely  pay  you  for  the  labor,  Mr.  de  Grey. 
You  had  better  trust  to  the  physiological  and 
ethical  writers.  They  will  tell  you  with  one  ac- 
cord that  the  feminine  brain  is  incapable  of  any 
purely  logical  train  of  thought  ;  that  we  jump 
at  our  conclusions.  In  short,  that  we  are  very 
shoal  and  frivolous,  and  that  it  is  to  the  massive, 
powerful,  masculine  brain  the  world  owes  all  its 
wise  deductions  and — and  every  thing  useful 
or  great." 

"  I  am  at  your  mercy,  Miss  Garnet,"  returne.d 
de  Grey,  laughing.  "  I  have  nothing  to  say  in 
defence  of  the  physiologists.  I  am  not  certain 
though  but  that  jumping  at  a  conclusion  is  the 
wisest  way  of  arriving  at  it.  Socrates  infers  it 
when  he  tells  us  that  intuition  is  but  a  rapid 
process  of  reasoning  by  analogy." 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  163 

"  Oh,  that  was  centuries  ago.  Modern  ethics 
are  far  in  advance  of  Socrates.  The  modern 
writers,  in  giving  us  intuition  as  an  especially 
feminine  trait,  infer,  of  course,  that  it  is  quite  a 
puerile  attribute,  far  beneath  the  dignity  of  the 
masculine  brain." 

"  Then  you  think,  Miss  Garnet,  that  the  mod- 
ern ethicists  wade  sometimes  beyond  their 
depth  ?  The  Rosy-cross-men,  you  know,  held 
intuition  and  inspiration  as  one." 

"  I — I  scarcely  know  what  I  really  do  think," 
faltered  Breta,  with  a  half  laugh.  Brought  sud- 
denly face  to  face  with  her  own  drolling,  she 
began  to  have  grave  misgivings  that  she  might 
be  making  a  goose  of  herself  before  such  a 
young  wiseacre  as  her  uncle  had  represented  de 
Grey  to  be.  "  Please  understand,  Mr.  de  Grey, 
if  I  advance  opinions,  it  is,  of  course,  in  a  per- 
fectly reckless,  illogical  way.  I  have  thought 
out  so  little,"  she  added. 

"  You  advance  opinions  in  a  perfectly — in  a 
way  that  interests  me  beyond  measure,"  said 
de  Grey,  looking  down  into  her  eyes  with  a 
warm  light  in  his.  "And  I  should  say  you  had 
done  some  pretty  hard  thinking  to  master  the 
crabbed  points  of  music,  just  as  you  have." 


164  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  A  little  hard  study  was  all  that  was  necessary 
to  achieve  that.  Those  who  made  the  music 
did  the  hard  thinking,"  asserted  Breta,  lightly, 
steadying  herself  under  his  look. 

"  To  interpret  the  great  masters  understand- 
ingly  is  to  be  one  with  them,"  affirmed  de  Grey. 

"It  would  be  pleasant  to  think  so;  but 
brought  up  as  I  was  in  a  land  of  music  and  art- 
treasure,  where  one  is  reminded  on  all  sides  of 
the  great  things  superior  intelligences  can 
achieve,  one  is  apt,  I  suppose,  to  think  slight- 
ingly of  one's  own  small  powers."  This  was 
said  with  so  much  simplicity  that  de  Grey, 
studying  Breta's  face  for  a  moment,  replied  quite 
indirectly  : 

"  To  the  great  masters  who  devoted  their 
lives  to  the  development  of  art  the  world  owes 
its  best  lessons.  Those  men  of  the  Renaissance 
— those  world-renowned  painters, — with  their 
rare  ability,  would  have  been  great  scientists, 
statesmen,  or  musicians  under  other  conditions. 
Their  influence  will  be  felt  to  the  end  of  time." 

"  Ah,  you  see,  Mr.  de  Grey,  they  had  the 
originality  to  comprehend  that  nature  is  the 
best  model,  and  the  courage  to  forsake  the  ser- 
vile copying  of  foregone  methods,  and  the 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  i65 

genius  to  execute  new  conceptions,"  said  Breta, 
warmly. 

"  Yes,  all  those  were  needed.  The  persistent 
departure  from  worn-out  methods  into  a  bold 
conception  of  the  truth  found  in  nature  is  what 
produces  the  new  birth  in  art,  or  music,  or  let- 
ters, or  in  religion.  It  was  Luther's  originality 
and  genius  and  courage  that  created  the  Ger- 
man Reformation,  which  is  called,  you  know, 
the  Renaissance  of  Christianity, — the  word  Re- 
naissance being  interpreted  as  '  the  conscious- 
ness of  intellectual  liberty.' ' 

"  Yes,  I  see,"  returned  Breta,  deeply  inter- 
ested. "  And  the  intellectual  liberty  of  Italy — 
and  through  Italy  that  of  other  nations — com- 
menced with  the  Renaissance,  the  Rinascenza, 
literally  the  New  Birth." 

"  Commenced,"  added  de  Grey,  smiling  at 
her  quiet  enthusiasm,  "  when,  in  the  thirteenth 
century,  the  sculptor  Niccola  Pisano,  and  close 
upon  him  the  painter  Giotto,  and  following 
them  Michael  Angelo,  da  Vinci,  Titian,  Ra- 
phael, Correggio,  and  the  whole  army  of  great 
painters  and  sculptors,  turned  their  backs  on 
the  models  of  the  schools  to  work  out  their 
ideas  with  all  nature  before  them.  After  Cor- 


1 66  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

reggio,  artists  began  again  copying  from  school 
models — it  was  now  their  beloved  Raffaele  they 
copied — and  art  declined.  Then  came  the  po- 
litical troubles  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and 
art  in  Italy  was  threatened  with  extinction.  But 
pardon  me,  Miss  Garnet,  I  am  growing  exten- 
sively statistic,  to  say  nothing  of  didactic,"  con- 
cluded de  Grey,  with  a  laugh  at  himself. 

"Then  there  was  the  French  Renaissance, 
Mr.  de  Grey,  of  which  I  know  positively  noth- 
ing," suggested  Breta,  with  a  tentative  upward 
glance  and  smile. 

"  And  the  English  Renaissance,  Miss  Garnet, 
started  by  Turner  and  followed  up  by  the  pre- 
Raphaelite  brotherhood." 

"  I  have  the  profoundest  admiration,"  return- 
ed Breta,  "for  those  pre-Raphaelite  painters, 
who  have  so  bravely  withstood  the  howls  of  the 
Royal  Academy  and  the  press,  and  have  proved 
by  their  works  that  nature  to  study  from  is  bet- 
ter than  the  models  of  the  schools.  Those  of 
the  old  Renaissance  had  the  encouragement  of 
appreciation  and  sympathy,  while  these  of  the 
new  Renaissance — these  leaders  of  a  forlorn 
hope — have  worked  on,  achieving  success,  with 
the  discouragement  of  abuse  from  all  sides." 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  167 

De  Grey  watched  the  delicate  changes  of 
Breta's  face,  that  expressed  so  much  more  of 
generous  enthusiasm  than  even  her  words. 

"  They  have  been  and  are  so  ably  defended 
by  John  Ruskin,  a  host  in  himself,"  said  he, 
"  that  they  need  no  other  support.  But  men  so 
much  in  earnest  as  they  would  work  on  the 
same  without  defence." 

"  And  the  new  social  Renaissance  of  aesthetic 
London,  Mr.  de  Grey,  that  has  so  curiously 
grown  out  of  the  other.  My  cousin,  Noel  Dun- 
raven,  has  labored  diligently  to  make  me  see  it 
as  he  sees  it.  But  he  failed  utterly,  for  I  could 
make  nothing  of  it ;  at  least,  that  was  pleasant." 

Breta  said  this  in  her  quietest  way,  not  as  im- 
parting a  confidence,  but  as  simply  narrating  a 
fact,  with  the  charming  candor  that  formed  so 
large  a  part  of  her  character. 

De  Grey's  spirits  rose  perceptibly. 

"  Mr.  Dunraven  has  painted  some  fine  pict- 
ures, Mr.  Whyte  tells  me,"  said  he. 

"  Very  fine,  and  he  has  written  some,  mostly 
verse,  and  has  composed  music.  (De  Grey  listen- 
ed attentively.)  No  one  can  find  fault  with  his 
perspectives,  or  lights  and  shades,"  continued 
Breta,  "  or  his  dactyls  or  iambics,  or  detect 


1 68  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

prohibited  fifths,  faulty  progressions,  or  other 
irregularities  in  his  nocturnes  or  idyls.  What- 
ever he  does,  he  does  well." 

De  Grey,  feeling  the  Dunraven  ground  to  be 
a  somewhat  dangerous  one,  but  wishing  to  hear 
Breta  still  further  express  herself,  said : 

"  My  sister  admires  Mr.  Dunraven  greatly, 
and  even  thinks  of  working  out  the  aesthetic 
problem  for  her  own  improvement." 

Breta  opened  her  eyes  a  little  wonderingly  as 
she  looked  up  and  met  de  Grey's  incomprehen- 
sible glance. 

"  We — my  Uncle  Ray  and  I,—  '  said  she, 
"  spent  several  weeks  in  London  just  before  we 
came  to  America,  after  leaving  Milan.  We 
were  with  my  aunt,  who  is  the  very  head  and 
front  of  the  aesthetic  offending-.  Noel  Dun- 

o 

raven  also  was  there,  and  my  aunt  (she  is  not 
his  aunt,  being  my  father's  sister)  depends  upon 
him,  when  she  is  fortunate  enough  to  get  him 
in  London,  to  assist  her  at  her  conversazioni 
and  other  aesthetic  gatherings.  Her  house  is 
large,  and  the  drawing-rooms,  connecting,  are 
so  arranged  as  to  doors  and  furniture,  to  give 
an  idea  of  space  and  repose.  There  are  numer- 
ous curiously  contrived  vistas,  quite  labyrin- 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  169 

thine  in  effect,  terminating  in  gorgeous  displays 
of  flowers  or  plants,  or  in  cunningly  hung  pict- 
ures, by  famous  artists,  with  the  light  falling  on 
each  from  unexpected  windov/s  at  just  the  right 
angle.  It  is  all  very  beautiful  and  very  wonder- 
ful. Her  collection  of  faience  and  majolica 
(the  majolica  of  undoubted  Majorca  origin)  is 
of  the  finest — as  are  all  of  her  art  decorations. 
And  her  collection  of  friends  is  not  to  be  rivalled. 
One  meets  all  the  celebrities,  all  the  great  per- 
sonages of  the  day  at  her  entertainments.  And 
the  gowns  of  the  most  ardent  of  the  aesthetes 
are  truly  astonishing.  The  operatic  stage  fades 
into  insignificance  before  their  artistically  tinted 
costumes  of  every  century.  They  (the  aesthetes) 
have  attitudes  and  ohs  !  and  ahs  !  for  great  sing- 
ers or  fine  piano  recitals,  every  shade  of '  soul ' 
and  '  intensity  '  being  expressed  ;  and  they  ex- 
pire with  delight,  or  revive  with  despair.  They 
made  of  uie—  Here  Breta  came  to  a  sudden 
pause. 

"  Pray,  Miss  Garnet,  don't  leave  the  part  of 
Hamlet  out,"  urged  de  Grey,  laughing  as  he 
looked  intently  at  Breta. 

"  Well,  I  was  the  last  new  craze.  You  see  I 
had  just  been  singing  at  Milan,  and  they  set  to 


170  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

work  calling  me  names,"  and  Breta  lifted  her 
eyes  to  his  with  a  brilliant  look. 

"  Calling  you  names  ?  "  repeated  de  Grey. 

"  They  called  me  Raphaelesque,  Titianesque, 
a  Correggio,  a  Millais,  Bordone-esque,  and  the 
esque  of  nearly  every  known  painter.  If  I  had 
been  Proteus  himself  I  could  not  have  had 
more,  or  more  dissimilar,  es<?2tes,"  said  Breta, 
with  a  short  laugh. 

"In  brief,  you  were  the  one  utterly-utter, 
pulsating  soul  that  pleased  to  pain."  De  Grey, 
spoke  in  a  tone  of  burlesque,  while  suddenly 
across  his  eyes  flickered  a  comprehensive 
gleam,  as  though  at  that  instant  he  had  made 
the  discovery  of  a  long-sought-for  point. 

"  There  was  a  very  lov — there  was  a  face  on 
exhibition  a  few  weeks  ago,  a  head,  in  the  gal- 
lery of  the  New  York  Decorative  Society,"  con- 
tinued he,  carefully  choosing  his  words.  "  It 
was  there,  and  then  was  gone.  1  missed  it 
severely.  It  was  not  for  sale,  and  I  was  told,  on 
enquiring,  that  the  original  of  the  face  had  cen- 
sured the  artist  (names  of  both  original  and  ar- 
tist not  revealed)  for  exhibiting  the  painting 
without  her  permision, — and  consequently  its 
removal.  The  artist,  if  I  mistake  not,  was  Mr. 
Dunraven." 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  1 7 1 

"  Yes,  it  was  he.  And  we — he  and  I — came 
very  neara  final  disagreement  about  it,"  replied 
Breta,  quietly,  but  she  said  no  more. 

"  There  are  some  fine  things  being  done  at 
present  in  the  Decorative  Art  Society  and  else- 
where in  decorative  art,  and  more  that  are 
trivial  and  meaningless,"  said  de  Grey.  "  But 
the  poorest  is  better,  much  better  than  nothing 
being  done.  Is  not  that  your  opinion  also, 
Miss  Garnet  ? " 

"  Don't  you  understand  why  the  decorative 
art  of  this  day  is  so  trivial,  so  inferior  to  what 
it  was  in  the  old  faience  and  majolica  times  ? 
It  is  all  owing  to  the  fact  that  so  many  women 
are  entering  the  art-field,"  suggested  Breta,  with 
a  laugh. 

"  And  women  sing,  Miss  Garnet.  And  such 
a  gift  as  yours — to  return  to  my  first  proposi- 
tion— is  one  of  the  grandest  inspirations  of 
which  the  world  can  boast." 

"  And  I  am  never  really  and  entirely  con- 
tented except  when  I  am  singing.  And  I — I 
often  ask  myself  if  I  did  right  in  resigning  a 
profession  where,  had  there  been  nothing  vex- 
ing, I  should  have  been  supremely  happy." 

"  Knowing  your  success,  and  your  capacity 


1 7  2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

for  succeeding,  Miss  Garnet,  I  have  wondered 
why  you  gave  it  up." 

"  The  management  and  the  maestri  urged 
me  to  continue  ;  every  one  urged  me  to  con- 
tinue ;  but  they  all — the  public,  I  mean — made 
such  a  fuss  over  me  (that  is,  my  voice),  and  it 
all  (the  fuss,  I  mean)  seemed  so  noisy  and 
jarred  so  on  me  that — well  I  was  sixteen  then, 
and  it  was  three  years  ago  and  over  ;  perhaps 
I  might  have  more  nerve  now  to  withstand  the 
— the  disagreeable  part  of  it." 

"  They — disagreeable  things — are  what  all 
successful  artists  are  compelled  to  undergo,  es- 
pecially one  so —  "  de  Grey  came  to  a  sudden 
pause.  "Your  uncle  told  me,"  resumed  he, 
"  of  your  reasons  for  quitting  the  brilliant  career 
before  you  ;  but  it  occurred  to  me,  though  per- 
haps I  have  no  right  to  judge,  that  with  a  little 
more — as  you  say — nerve,  you  might  have 
lived  down  the  disagreeable  side  of  the  life,  for 
the  sake  of  the  great  benefit  you  could  confer 
on  the  world.  For  such  voices  as  yours,  Miss 
Garnet,  can  teach  the  world,  and  the  world 
needs  teaching." 

"  There  is  where  it  is,  Mr.  de  Grey,"  replied 
Breta,  seriously.  "  I  have,  of  late,  felt  my  lack 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  173 

of  aim  in  life.  Admitting  that  nothing  can  har- 
monize and  humanize  human  beings  more  than 
music,  all  who  can  raise  the  standard  of  music 
by  giving  to  the  world  the  best,  ought  to  sacri- 
fice every  thing  for  that.  I  am  satisfied  I  did 
wrong  in  refusing  to  lend  my  mite  toward  help- 
ing on  the  improvement  of  the  race.  If  I  could 
not  give  the  very  best  I  could  have  given  my 
best."  And  Breta  gave  a  little  laugh  and  a  little 
upward  glance  half  mocking,  half  serious. 

"  And  you  may  yet  repair  your  error,  Miss 
Garnet,  and  make  the  world  hap — and  use  your 
gift  for  the  benefit  of  mankind  ?  " 

"  Possibly,  yes." 

"  And  your  uncle  ?  " 

"  Highly  approves." 

For  a  few  moments  nothing  was  said,  but 
meeting  Breta's  eyes  that  were  filled  with  a  ten- 
der content,  and  thinking  he  had  never  seen 
her  look  so  charming,  de  Grey  remarked  : 

"  I,  too,  have  my  aims  in  life,  Miss  Garnet ; 

some  that  would  be  called  visionary,  but  others 

—good,  practical  ones — that  I  shall  undoubtedly 

carry  out.     It  would  give  me  much  pleasure  to 

explain  them  to  you  some  day." 

The  "  some  day,"  but  more  the  look  accom- 


174  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

panying  it,  aroused  Breta  forcibly  from  the  vague 
and  pleasant  wandering  into  which  she  had  fal- 
len to  the  full  significance  of  the  more  days  like 
the  present.  Trusting  herself  only  to  say  how 
much  pleasure  it  would  give  her  to  listen  to  his 
plans,  she  hurried  into  a  description  of  portions 
of  her  home  life  at  Milan,  portraying  Madama 
the  Contessa,  and  signer  the  professore,  her  old 
maestro,  and  introduced  so  many  characteristic 
biographical  anecdotes,  that  de  Grey  declared 
he  felt  well  acquainted  with  both,  and  was  say- 
ing he  was  sure  he  could  pick  out  the  professor 
among  a  thousand,  as  Frank,  with  Selma  and 
Mr.  Whyte,  came  up. 

"  I  would  not  let  your  uncle  bury  himself  any 
longer  this  lovely  afternoon,  so  I  dragged 
him  out  of  his  den  to  come  and  help  entertain 
us.  Did  I  not  do  right,  Breta  ?  " 

"  Do  you  not  always  do  right,  Miss  Bowers  ?  " 
asked  de  Grey. 

"  Certainly,  always.  It  is  so  easy  to  do  right, 
you  know.  But  I  wish  to  tell  you  the  pro- 
gramme for  this  evening,"  continued  Frank, 
so  breezily  it  was  as  though  a  strong  west 
wind  had  arisen.  "  Breta  is  to  sing,  I  am  to 
sing,  you,  Mr.  de  Grey,  are  to  play  on  your  de- 


A  Strategic  Arrangement.  i;5 

lightful  cello,  with  Mr.  Whyte's  Cremona,  and 
Miss  de  Grey  to  accompany  on  the  piano.  It 
— the  piano — is  just  unboxed  and  set  up,  and 
is  such  an  exquisitely  toned  instrument !  I  have 
been  making  Miss  de  Grey  play  for  me." 

"  It  was  the  arrival  of  the  piano,  then,  that 
called  you  off  to  the  house,  was  it,  Selma  ?  " 
asked  de  Grey. 

"  I  have  finished  that  arrangement,  de  Grey," 
observed  Mr.  Whyte. 

"  So  remiss  in  me  not  to  give  you  the  credit, 
Mr.  Whyte,  of  the  arrangement,"  exclaimed 
Frank,  with  one  of  her  mischievous  looks. 

His  eyes  taking  in  the  mischievous  look,  Mr. 
Whyte,  with  his  twisted  smile,  said  : 

"  I  was  alluding,  Miss  Frank,  to  my  score  of 
Bach's  fugue  in  C  sharp." 

"  Score  one  against  me,  Mr.  Whyte.  I  take 
it  all  Bach.  We  '11  have  my  arrangement  car- 
ried out  to  the  letter,  and  yours  to  the  note — 
seven  sharps,  and  all." 

"  You  are  too  many  sharps  for  me,  Miss 
Frank,"  returned  quiet  little  Mr.  Whyte,  with 
another  twisted  smile. 

•     At  dinner,  Selma  had  for  additional  guests 
Dunraven  and  Counsellor  Black,  and  the  even- 


176  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ing  was  devoted,  as  Frank  had  intimated,  to 
music ;  Dunraven,  in  his  light,  taking-it-for- 
granted  way,  playing  all  Breta's  accompani- 
ments, and  playing  them  exquisitely,  as  Breta 
had  said  he  did  every  thing. 

He  quite  overpowered  even  unemotional  Mr. 
Black,  with  the  superbness  of  his  attitudes. 
And  de  Grey,  when  he  drove  Breta  and  Frank 
back  to  the  seminary,  was  so  silent  and  Breta 
was  so  silent,  that  Frank  had  to  do  all  the 
talking. 


XI. 

A    GREAT   ADMIRATION    FOR    SOLDIERS. 

AS  every  day  merges  into  the  next,  so  the 
next  day  came, — a  warm,  sunny,  bell- 
ringing  Sunday.  People  go  to  church  for  various 
causes.  Some  to  show  new  hats  and  dresses, 
some  because  somebody  will  say  something  if 
they  don't  go  to  church,  some  to  criticise,  some 
to  set  a  good  example,  and  some  few,  rare  in- 
dividuals, to  worship. 

Joslyn  de  Grey  went  to  worship  ;  but  it  was 
at  the  shrine  of  a  beautiful  graven  idol  he  knelt. 
And  he  carried  back  with  him  for  home  wor- 
ship (a  generous  harvest  he  had  garnered  and 
miserly  hoarded)  the  noble  strains  of  a  voice 
of  purest  melody,  the  sweet  outlines  of  a 
lovely  face  replete  with  character  and  feeling, 
and  certain  stray  glances  from  charming  eyes 
that  had  bewitched  him  hopelessly. 

It  was  on  Tuesday  morning,  the  day  before 
177 


178  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  picnic,  that  de  Grey  found  himself  face  to 
face  again  with  Breta,  upon  riding  over  to  the 
seminary  and  valiantly  standing  the  cross-fire 
from  countless  dazzling  eyes,  as  he  passed  the 
young  ladies  engaged  at  tennis  on  the  lawn  ; 
Selim  indulging  himself  in  the  many  remark- 
able equine  evolutions  spirited  horses  take  it  in 
their  heads  to  perform  at  times. 

Breta,  with  Frank  beside  her,  an  arm  thrown 
lovingly  over  Breta's  shoulder,  was  sitting  on 
the  veranda  in  Miss  Rutherford's  favorite  nook 
when  off  duty,  and  was  reading  aloud  to 
that  lady  from  a  late  French  journal.  Sadie 
Burrill  and  Pella  Morton  also  were  listening  to 
the  reading — it  being  the  hour  before  lesson 
time — Sadie  looking  as  she  always  did,  like  a 
peach  or  a  garden  rose-bud,  and  Pella  in  the 
attitude  in  which  Garafelia  Mohalbi's  portrait 
was  taken.  Frank  had  told  her  that  de  Grey 
thought  her  like  the  picture,  and  at  consider- 
able pains  and  expense  she  had  procured  a  copy 
of  it ;  and  she  herself  was  sure  she  needed 
only  the  Greek  costume  to  make  the  similitude 
perfect. 

After  the  introduction  was  over  to  the  young 
ladies  with  whom  he  was  unacquainted,  de 


A   Great  Admiration   for  Soldiers.     179 

Grey,  apologizing,  said  he  was  afraid  he  had 
interrupted  some  important  lesson. 

"  No  lesson  at  all,  I  assure  you,  "  blandly  re- 
plied Miss  Rutherford.  "  I  do  not  understand 
French  or  Italian  very  well,  Mr.  de  Grey,  and 
Miss  Garnet,  frequently  in  our  leisure  hours, 
kindly  translates  for  me  the  foreign  news,  keep- 
ing me  posted  in  the  scientific  and  musical  in- 
formation I  should  otherwise  lose." 

"  And  so  do  not  get  rusty  in  the  languages 
of  the  countries  where  I  spent  so  many  years 
of  my  life,"  returned  Breta,  with  a  graceful  turn 
of  her  head  toward  de  Grey,  and  a  pretty 
ignoring  of  conferring  a  favor  that  was  delight- 
ful. 

"  I  often  have  occasion  to  tell  Miss  Garnet 
that  she  is  more  than  half  Italian,"  said  Miss 
Rutherford,  with  dignified  suavity. 

"  My  sympathies  certainly  were  always,  and 
my  strongest  affection  still  is,  with  Italy  ;  but  I 
am  an  American,  and  shall  never  give  up  my 
birthright,"  Breta  replied  quietly,  with  a 
charmingly  ingenuous  smile.  But  there  was 
something  in  the  very  quiet  tone  of  her  voice, 
and  the  concentrated  look  in  her  large  eyes, 
that  seemed  a  defiant  little  protest  for  the  great 


180  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

love  she  confessed  to  having  for  a  country  not 
her  own. 

At  least  de  Grey  so  interpreted  her. 

"  No  one  could  live  the  early  years  of  one's 
life  in  such  a  country  as  Italy,  of  all  countries, 
so  full  of  traditions  and  memories  that  appeal  to 
the  strongest  feelings,  without  becoming  in 
heart  an  Italian,"  said  he. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  de  Grey!  "  piped  up  Pella  Mor- 
ton in  silvery  tones,  "  no  one  could  hear  Miss 
Garnet  relate  some  of  the  scenes  she  has  actu- 
ally witnessed  at  the  time  Garibaldi  was  fight- 
ing so  desperately,  and  the  Austrian  police 
had  it  all  their  own  way,  without  cold  shivers ; 
and  then  when  the  Prussian  victory  over 
Austria  came  in  so  nicely  to  help  Italy  to 
Venice  and  the  Quadrilateral  and  all  that 
for  which  Italy  was  fighting  so  hard  ;  and 
then  when  the  French  Empire  was  overthrown, 
and  Victor  Emanuel  marched  triumphantly  into 
Rome  ;  I  assure  you,  Mr.  de  Grey,  it  would  all 
fairly  make  your  hair  stand  on  end." 

"  I  assure  you,  Miss  Morton,  my  mental  hair 
has  stood  on  end  many  times  in  reading  of  the 
desperate  (desperate  is  just  the  word,  Miss 
Morton)  struggles  of  Italy  against  such  odds," 


A  Great  Admiration  for  Soldiers.     181 

returned  de  Grey,  with  a  very  ambiguous 
smile.  "  When  I  was  a  boy  I  wanted  to  enlist 
under  Garibaldi,  and  parental  authority  found  it 
difficult  to  restrain  my  ardor." 

"  I  was  not  over  nine  years  old,"  said  Breta, 
laughing,  "  when  I  accompanied  Uncle  Ray, 
who  was  as  staunch  a  patriot  as  the  staunchest, 
to  Garibaldi's  camp.  It  was  a  curious  place  for 
a  little  girl  to  be  in  ;  but  it  was  my  ardent  de- 
sire, and  Uncle  Ray  never  denied  me  any 
thing.  We  went  from  Milan  to  Genoa,  and 
then  from  Genoa  to  Palermo  in  a  vessel.  Gari- 
baldi was  stationed  on  a  little  plateau,  which  had 
a  wide  outlook,  up  in  those  grim  Sicilian  moun- 
tain ranges  ;  his  scarlet  soldiers  (some  one  has 
called  his  red  soldiery  '  a  fiery  sword  of  retri- 
bution ')  having  stuck  lances  in  the  ground  and 
stretched  blankets  across  them,  for  Garibaldi 
allowed  nothing  so  effeminate  as  tents.  The 
whole  scene  was  a  never-to-be-forgotten  one 
in  its  wild  picturesqueness.  There  were  several 
Americans  present,  and  two  or  three  British 
naval  officers.  Uncle  Ray  having  effected  the 
object  of  his  visit,  which  was  a  personal  inter- 
view with  the  great  general,  and  to  present  him 
with  quite  a  large  sum  of  money,  we  left." 


1 82  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"It  must  have  been  bea-e-u-u-tiful !"  ex- 
claimed Pella.  "  But  I  should  have  been  ter- 
ribly frightened." 

"  It  was  a  great  event  for  me,"  continued 
Breta.  "  Garibaldi  shook  hands  with  me  when 
we  went ;  and  I  told  him  I  hated  the  Austrians 
(my  hatred  for  the  Austrians  in  those  days  was 
perfectly  fierce),  and  I  told  him  with  a  great 
deal  of  fervor  that  I  knew  he  would  be  even 
with  them  yet.  Garibaldi  laughed  heartily  at 
my  words,  and  those  near  him  roared  with 
laughter.  And  then  they  all  (the  red  soldiery,  I 
mean,  not  Garibaldi)  set  up  an  '  evvivaing '  that 
terrified  me  some  ;  but  my  small  soul  was  so 
consumed  by  the  fires  of  patriotism,  that  I  stood 
it  all  without  flinching." 

"  Such  an  honor,  Mr.  de  Grey,  to  have  shaken 
hands  and  conversed  with  Garibaldi ! "  said 
Pella,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  laugh  Breta  had 
elicited. 

"  "In  those  years  my  love  for  Victor  Emman- 
uel," continued  Breta,  "  was  beyond  any  thing  I 
can  express.  And  when  the  victory  of  Sedan 
overthrew  the  French  power,  the  entry  of  Vic- 
tor Emmanuel  in  Rome  was  quite  as  enthusiastic 
a  triumph  to  me  as  it  could  have  been  to  him. 


A   Great  Admiration  for  Soldiers.     183 

I  was  about  fourteen  at  that  time.  And  for 
Verdi — who  worked  so  hard  for  Italy,  in  many 
ways — my  love  was  an  overwhelming  enthu- 
siasm. Verdi's  name,  in  fact,  was  a  talisman 
throughout  Italy.  And  '  Viva  V-e-r-d-i '  was 
well  understood  in  every  opera-house  and 
every  gathering  to  mean  not  only  '  Viva  Verdi,' 
but  '  Viva  Vittorio  Emmanuele  Re  d'  Italia '  as 
well.  And  the  watchful  Austrian  police,  who 
had  caused  Verdi's  operas  to  be  so  remorse- 
lessly cut  down,  in  rooting  out  patriotic  expres- 
sions (thougn  they  never  got  them  all  out)  could 
find  nothing  in  '  Viva  Verdi '  that  must  be  sup- 
pressed, although  it  was  a  watchword  so  well 
known  to  Italian  patriots." 

"  That  is  something  you  never  told  us  before, 
Miss  Garnet,"  said  Pella,  bending  forward  from 
her  Garafelia  attitude  which  she  had  again  as- 
sumed. "  It  is  quite  an  historical  item.  Singu- 
lar that  the  letters  of  Verdi's  name  should  be 
so  significant, — and  Verdi  such  a  maestro  too." 

"  Do  hear  Pella  gush,"  said  Frank,  in  a  tone 
inaudible  to  all  but  her  friend  Sadie  Burrill, 
over  toward  whom  she  had  leaned. 

"  Don't  you  admire  Verdi  excessively,  Mr.  de 
Grey  ?  "  asked  Pella.  "  He  makes  you  fairly  in 


184  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

love  with  consecutive  octaves,  he  manages  them 
so  cleverly — just  as  Chopin  does  his  consecu- 
tive fifths.  It  is  so  perfectly  lovely  to  be  able 
to  transcend  rules  and  make  something  superi- 
or— that  cannot  be  found  fault  with.  It  is  the 
acme  of  genius."  And  Pella  fell  back  into  her 

o 

Garafelia  attitude. 

"  For  my  part,"  broke  in  Frank,  with  an  ex- 
pressive little  grimace  over  at  Breta,  "  I  must 
confess  Pella  has  the  advantage  of  me,  if  she  can 
even  tell  a  consecutive  fifth.  I  never  could, 
notwithstanding  the  howl  Harmonists  make 
over  them.  But  I  agree  with  her  in  one  thing, 
that  it  is  perfectly  lovely  to  break  rules  on  occa- 
sion." 

Even  Miss  Rutherford  was  compelled  to  join 
in  the  laugh  this  created,  and  Pella,  trying  hard 
to  look  amiable,  laughed  more  than  any  one 
else. 

De  Grey,  saved  the  necessity  of  replying  to 
Pella's  somewhat  puzzling  remark,  turned  to 
Miss  Rutherford. 

"  I  come  freighted  with  a  message  from  my 
sister,"  said  he.  "  Mr.  Black,  Col.  Conynghame, 
and  Count  Gueret  have  unexpectedly  arrived 
at  Elmwood,  and  Selma  begs  the  privilege  of 


A  Great  Admiration  for  Soldiers.     i85 

bringing   them    with    her    to    the    picnic    to- 
morrow." 

"  Miss  de  Grey's  friends  are  more  than  wel- 
come. Pray  tell  your  sister  I  consider  she  has 
the  ordering  of  who  shall  be  invited  quite  as 
much  as  I.  Still,  of  course,  it  being  a  school 
picnic  it  is  very  kind  and  thoughtful  in  her  to 
defer  to  me.  The  Count  Gueret  of  whom  you 
speak  is  the  writer,  is  he  not,  of  that  article  en 
French  politics  just  out  in  the  Age  ?  " 

"  The  same.  He  is  quite  a  savant,  as  well 
as  revolutionist,  and  is  of  the  old  French 
stock." 

"  And  the  Col.  Conynghame  you  mention  dis- 
tinguished himself,  if  I  remember  aright,  in  our 
late  civil  war  ?  " 

"  You  remember  aright,  Miss  Rutherford," 
replied  de  Grey,  with  a  smile.  "  Ralph — Col. 
Conynghame — caught  the  patriotic  fever  (from 
which  I  suffered  also,  being  then  fifteen)  and 
enlisted  when  he  was  only  seventeen  years  old. 
At  eighteen,  for  having  captured  a  Southern 
flag  under  marked  circumstances,  he  was  made 
lieutenant  of  a  company  that  his  father  raised 
and  fitted  out.  And  upon  the  close  of  the  war 
he  was  colonel  of  a  regiment ;  and  although  he 


1 85  The  Benefit  of  the  Doitbt. 

had  been  serving  in  all  less  than  three  years  he 
achieved  considerable  military  renown." 

"  He  must  still  be  very  young  ?  "  said  Miss 
Rutherford  questioningly. 

"  He  is  twenty-eight,  two  years  older  than  I. 
Ralph  and  I  (did  I  say  he  is  my  cousin  ?)  have 
been  abroad  mostly  since  the  close  of  the 
war." 

"  It  must  -be  a  glorious  thing  to  feel  one  has 
fought  and  bled  in  defence  of  one's  country," 
remarked  Pella. 

"  And  a  still  more  glorious  thing  to  be  able 
to  say  :  '  I  fought,  bled,  and  died  for  my  coun- 
try,' "  put  in  Frank,  with  melodramatic  fervor 
and  an  aside  grimace  at  Pella. 

"  You  must  excuse  Frank,"  said  Pella,  sweet- 
ly. "  She  is  always  privileged  to — pardon  me 
if  I  use  one  of  her  own  graphic  expressions — 
to  '  go  you  one  better.' " 

"  Was  Col.  Conynghame  ever  gloriously 
wounded,  Mr.  de  Grey  ?  "  asked  Frank,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  Never  seriously,"  replied  de  Grey,  evident- 
ly enjoying  the  hors  d'  ceuvre  of  Pella  and 
Frank,  though  too  polite  to  show  it.  "He 
served  under  Grant,  but  like  many  others  who 


A  Great  Admiration  for  Soldiers,     187 

escaped  unscathed,  he  seemed  possessed  of  the 
secret  of  charming  off  bullets." 

"  Col.  Conynghame  would  undoubtedly  have 
become  a  great  general,  had  the  wir  continued  ; 
do  you  not  think  so,  Mr.  de  Grey  ?  "  interro- 
gated Pella  Morton,  turning  her  beautiful 
Greek  face  toward  de  Grey,  with  an  expression 
of  the  deepest  interest. 

"  Undoubtedly,  Miss  Morton  ;  that  is,  I  think 
so.  Ralph  Conynghame  is  talented  and  ener- 
getic and — ambitious  also,"  responded  de  Grey 
glancing  from  Pella  to  Breta  and  mentally  com- 
paring the  cold,  uncertain  glint  of  Pella's  steel- 
blue  eyes  with  the  warm,  steadfast  light  of 
Breta's. 

"  We  shall  see  your  cousin  to  morrow  at  the 
picnic,  shall  we  not,  Mr.  de  Grey  ?  I  have  a 
great  admiration  for  soldiers,"  said  Frank,  with 
a  laugh,  having  taken  a  comprehensive  note  of 
de  Grey's  mental  comparison. 

"  Weather  permitting  the  picnic  to  come  oft", 
Miss  Bowers,"  acquiesced  de  Grey. 

"  Are  you  a  weather-prophet,  Mr.  de  Grey  ? 
"Will  it  be  fair  to-morrow  ?  "  asked  Pella,  with  a 
sweet  smile. 

"  I  have  always  observed,  Miss  Morton,  that 


1 88  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  weather  has  a  trick  of  reversing  my  predic- 
tions. Had  you  not  better  consult  '  Proba- 
bilities ?  ' 

"  Have  you  read  to-day's  Times,  Miss  Ruth- 
erford ?  "  airily  asked  Pella,  in  a  honey-sweet 
voice  and  with  a  rippling  laugh. 

"  If  I  mistake  not,  Miss  Morton,  the  indica- 
tions are  for  a  falling  barometer.  We  may 
possibly  have  a  thunder  shower." 

"  It  behooves  us  to  take  our  water-proof 
wraps,  and—  The  school-bell,  ringing  loudly 
just  then,  interrupted  Pella,  and  de  Grey  took 
his  leave. 


XII. 

"  DID    I    NOT   TELL    YOU    HE    IS    DEEP  ?  " 

UP  rose  the  sun  on  the  lovely  dewy  morn- 
ing following,   with  abundant  promise 
of  a  pleasant  day,  and  up  rose  the  expectant 
young  aspirants  for  a  delightful  change  from 
plodding  school-life. 

As  the  shadow  of  the  towering  mountain 
left  the  cosey  valley  over  which,  like  a  guardian 
giant,  it  stood  sentinel,  the  pretty  village  of  Lea 
at  its  base,  circled  by  wooded  hills,  looked,  in 
the  clearing  mist,  more  than  ever  like  a  huge 
water-lily,  with  one  petal  missing  where  the 
bend  in  the  river  came. 

Winding  up  and  around  one  of  the  lesser 
hills — the  hill  on  which  stood  Miss  Rutherford's 
seminary, — was  the  road  to  Rocky  Glen,  and 
it  had  been  agreed  upon  that  all  the  vehicles 
should  meet  and  start  at  the  same  time  from 
the  school. 

189 


1 90  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Many  of  the  guests — the  de  Greys,  the 
Judge  Waltons,  the  Gen.  Leightons,  and  others 
among  the  village  dignitaries — went  in  their  own 
carriages.  And  so  prompt  had  all  been,  that 
the  cavalcade  left  Miss  Rutherford's  a  little  be- 
fore the  appointed  time. 

To  the  juveniles  the  picnic  was  an  important 
event,  and  the  brilliancy  of  their  expectations 
seemed  graduated  by  the  brightness  and  huge- 
ness of  the  bows  of  their  wide  sashes,  and  the 
depth  of  embroidery  to  their  wide  collars. 

Descending  the  hill  the  party  struck  into  the 
river  road,  and  from  between  the  crisp  lights 
and  shadows  of  the-  early  morning  glimpses 
were  caught,  through  the  intervening  trees,  of 
the  ever-winding  river,  sparkling  in  the  newly 
risen  sun,  showing  here  a  sharp  curve,  where 
it  came  tumbling  and  foaming  over  rocks,  and 
beyond  a  placid  pool  in  which  the  graceful 
fountain  elms  and  the  stately  forest  oak  lay 
mirrored  as  in  a  pflass. 

o 

Passing  the  old  feed-mill,  made  immortal  by 
the  charming  painting  of  one  of  our  well- 
known  artists,  they  drove  over  the  rough,  rustic 
bridge  that  spanned  the  clear,  spring-fed  waters 
of  a  trout-filled  tributary  to  the  river, — so  clear, 


"Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?  "     191 

that  the  little  brook  took  its  tints  from  the 
varied  foliage  and  mossy  rocks  margining  its 
banks.  And  many  were  the  jokes  and  quips 
volunteered  by  the  gay  party  as  they  noted  the 
posted  placards  warning  all  intruders  from  fish- 
ing in  the  tempting  stream,  where  the  speckled 
trout  lay  looking  up  from  their  pebbly  beds, 
cool  and  saucy. 

A  sharp  bend  in  the  road  brought  the  party 
in  full  view  of  the  falls.  The  suddenness  with 
which  the  tumbling,  roaring,  foaming,  splash- 
ing, dashing  little  cataract  came  upon  the  sight, 
on  turning  the  sharp  bend,  was  always  sure  to 
elicit  an  involuntary  "  Oh  !  "  and  the  combined 
and  many-voiced  "  Ohs  !  "  from  the  numerous 
vehicles  that  morning,  as  the  vista  broke  on 
them,  formed  quite  a  startling  chorus. 

The  glen,  where  they  were  to  meet,  within 
view  of  the  falls,  and  surrounded  by  rocks,  on 
which  and  between  which  grew  trees  in  the 
wildest,  most  rugged  manner,  possessed  in  its 
centre  a  velvety  lawn,  well  adapted  for  tennis 
and  croquet.  And  so  full  were  Nellie  Bowers 
and  the  other  juveniles  of  croquet,  that  hugging 
their  mallets  closely  in  their  arms  as  they  were 
helped  down  from  the  omnibus,  they  had  staked 


192  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

off  their  grounds  before  all  the  party  had  fairly 
alighted. 

Frank,  magnificent  with  her  dark,  oriental 
eyes  and  raven  hair,  and  in  her  stylish  gown  so 
becoming  to  her,  was  sauntering  over  the  green 
sward  with  Breta,  making  funny  remarks  about 
every  thing  that  came  in  her  way. 

Breta,  always  lovely,  seemed  this  morning  the 
embodiment  of  loveliness  in  her  soft,  gray,  well- 
fitting  gown.  The  charm  of  her  face,  so  vary- 
ing in  expression,  and  the  beauty  of  her 
features,  so  exquisitely  moulded,  were  never 
eclipsed  by  the  brilliant  Frank  Bowers — who  re- 
minded one  of  an  Eastern  sunset — but  beside 
her  were  accented  instead,  and  made  more  ap- 
parent. 

The  de  Greys,  with  Mr.  Black  and  the  rest 
of  their  party,  coming  up  to  them,  they  were 
introduced  by  Selma  to  Col.  Conynghame  and 
Count  Gueret,  whereupon  Selma,  with  Mr. 
Black,  went  to  rejoin  Miss  Rutherford. 

The  count,  dark  to  swarthiness,  with  a  satur- 
nine countenance,  a  wiry,  withy  form,  and 
movements  quick  and  angular,  like  those  of  a 
well-conditioned  crab  used  to  polite  society,  was 
80  impressively  imbued  with  that  ease  of  man- 


"Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?"     193 

ner,  intensely  French,  that  they  were  all  freely 
chatting  at  once  ;  he  animadverting  on  the  ex- 
treme earliness  of  the  hour,  and  extolling  the 
beauty  of  the  drive,  the  falls,  and  the  glen.  De 
Grey  having  just  then  monopolized  Breta's  at- 
tention, the  count  turned  to  Frank. 

"  Shall  we  not  go  and  see  the  kitchen  ar- 
rangements, Miss  Bowers  ?  I  take  great  inter- 
est in  camp-cooking,"  said  he,  with  a  thin  smile 
that  pointed  his  moustache  upward. 

"  You  do  also,  Col.  Conynghame,  do  you 
not  ?  "  asked  Frank,  turning  to  Conynghame. 

Conynghame,  tall,  erect,  and  with  a  soldierly 
carriage,  was  possessed  of  such  a  marked  court- 
liness of  manner,  devoid^of  ostentation,  devoid 
of  striking  attitudes,  and  was  so  polite  by  nature 
and  culture,  that  in  his  presence  you  felt  good- 
breeding  to  be  the  most  desirable  of  arts.  His 
simple  title  of  colonel  seemed  insufficient  for  so 
much  stateliness  and  elegance  of  demeanor,  and 
you  felt  like  addressing  him  as  "  My  lord  duke," 
or  "  Excellency,"  or  "  Highness." 

"  I  have  seen  the  time,  Miss  Bowers,"  said 
he,  lifting  his  hat  to  Frank,  and  bowing  in  re- 
sponse to  her  invitation  as  they  walked  on, 
"  when,  if  I  had  not  taken  an  interest  in  camp- 


1 94  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

cooking,  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  the  poo? 
fellows  who  depended  on  others  to  do  the  think- 
ing for  them." 

o 

"  It  was  well  you  had  something  to  cook,  or 
it  would  have  gone  hard  with  you  as  well,"  re- 
turned Frank,  with  a  laugh. 

"  Somehow,  when  so  many  brave  fellows  are 
worn  out  with  a  long  marchf  short  rations,  and 
hard  fighting,  one  forgets  to  think  of  one's  self," 
said  Conynghame,  lifting  a  mental  hat  to  Frank. 
He  always  seemed,  in  conversing  with  ladies, 
when  not  lifting  an  actual  hat,  as  occasion  de- 
manded, to  be  lifting  a  mental  one. 

"  Let  us  offer  thanks  in  our  breakfast  grace 
that  we  do  not  have  to  be  stinted  in  our  omelet 
and  coffee."  The  count  spoke  with  such  mock- 
ing lightness,  that  Frank,  prepared  to  rap  out  a 
startling  rejoinder,  chanced  to  meet  Conyng- 
hame's  fine  eyes  regarding  her  with  an  attentive 
look,  as  though  waiting  for  her  to  speak,  and 
she  addressed  him  instead. 

"  I  also,  with  Breta  Garnet,  had  my  patriotic 
fires.  Mine  took  the  form  of  pocket-money. 
All  my  allowance  I  regularly  sent,  besides  inter- 
viewing papa  repeatedly  for  more  liberal  sup- 
plies. And  if  the  poor  soldiers  ever  fell  short 


"Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?"     195 

in  their  rations  it  was  all  owing  to  the  question 
of  pocket-money." 

"  Then  Miss  Garnet  was  also  patriotic  ?  " 
asked  Conynghame,  laughing,  and  looking  back 
a  little  to  where  Breta  and  de  Grey  were  follow- 
ing them. 

"  Immensely,"  returned  Frank,  also  looking 
back,  and  noting  that  Breta  was  evidently  much 
interested  in  what  de  Grey  was  saying.  "  But 
her  patriotism  took  a  more  active  form  than 
mine.  She  served  under  Garibaldi,  you  know, 
encouraging  him  in  his  hour  of  need." 

o       o 

Conynghame  regarded  Frank  in  a  little  un- 
certainty for  an  instant,  then  his  fine  face  light- 
ed up  with  a  comprehensive  smile. 

"  I  see,"  said  he. 

"Very  kind,  very  considerate  of  you,  Miss 
Bowers,  to  deny  yourself  of  all  your  pocket- 
money,  foregoing  candy  and  that,"  remarked 
the  count,  still  in  his  light,  mocking  tone. 

"It  was  owing  quite  as  much  to  the  kind, 
considerate  hearts  that  cared  for  us  as  to  our 
own  exertions,  that  the  war  was  carried  to  a 
successful  issue,"  returned  Conynghame,  his 
well- modulated  baritone  contrasting  pleasantly 
with  the  count's  cynical,  incisive  voice. 


196  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

The  huge  fire  that  crackled  and  blazed  in  its 

o 

rocky  fireplace,  with  the  glancing  to  and  fro 
before  it  of  the  cooks  and  their  aids,  which  now 
opened  on  their  vision,  formed  a  scene  highly 
suggestive,  the  count  delared,  of  a  witch's  sabbat. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  witch's  sabbat,  Count 
Gueret  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  Oh,  a  vast  number,  Miss  Bowers — on  the 
stage." 

Breta  and  de  Grey  here  joining  them,  they 
all  stood  watching  the  culinary  arrangements 
for  a  few  moments,  then  sauntering  on  and 
taking  a  circuit  around  by  the  rocks  on  their 
way  back  to  the  lawn,  they  came  upon  Miss  de 
Grey  and  Miss  Rutherford,  who,  with  Mrs.  Gen. 
Leighton,  Mrs.  Judge  Walton,  and  several  other 
notable  matrons,  were  superintending  the  wait- 
ing-men and  maids  in  the  disposition  of  the 
tables,  that,  already  covered  with  spotless  dam- 
ask and  surmounted  with  a  profusion  of  flowers, 
cut-glass,  and  silver,  contrasted  gaily  with  their 
green  and  rocky  surroundings. 

Counsellor  Black,  entirely  too  ponderous  with 
law  for  tennis  or  any  of  the  light  games  all 
around,  was  standing  near  Selma  ;  her  fair,  kind 
face  lit  up  by  one  of  the  most  lovable  smiles, 


"Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?"     197 

and  her  eyes  of  deep  violet,  that  in  his  presence 
grew  deeper  in  hue,  having  evidently  more  at- 
tractions for  him. 

"  I  find  myself  greatly  interested  in  the  peo- 
ple," remarked  the  count  to  Frank,  as  they 
found  themselves  again  on  the  lawn.  "  That 
tall,  slender  gentleman,  for  instance,  with  the 
long,  straggling  gray  hair,  and  with  a  fishing-rod 
in  his  hand, — who  may  he  be,  Miss  Bowers  ?  " 

Frank  was  talking  so  merrily  with  Conyng- 
hame  she  did  not  hear  the  count's  question. 

"  His  name  is  Addison,"  replied  Breta,  an- 
swering for  her.  "  He  is  half-artist,  half-phi- 
losopher, and  all  fisherman.  He  paints  trout  to 
the  life,  and  his  pictures  sell  faster  than  he  can 
finish  them." 

"  I  purchased  a  couple  of  them  yesterday  ; 
they  are  quite  wonderful  in  their  way,"  said  de 
Grey,  with  his  quietest  manner.  "  They  hang 
in  the  dining-room  ;  you  may  recollect  them, 
Gueret." 

"  Oh,  those,"  returned  the  count ;  "  yes,  I  see. 
And,  Miss  Garnet,  that  strikingly  pretty  girl 
now  talking  with  your  trout- artist, — the  young 
lady  all  brown  as  to  hair  and  eyes, — who  may 
she  be  ?  " 


1 98  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  One  of  Miss  Rutherford's  pupils,  Miss  Sadie 
Burrill,"  responded  Breta  ;  "  one  of  Miss  Ruth- 
erford's very  best  pupils." 

"  And  the  belle  of  the  school,"  added  Frank, 
turning  from  Conynghame  to  the  count. 

"  The  vivid  rosiness  of  her  lips  and  cheeks 
and  the  bright  sparkle  of  her  hazel  eyes  war- 
rant the  choice.  But  Miss  Rutherford's  school 
is  rich  in  belles,  I  find.  Is  that  young  lady  stand- 
ing beside  Miss  Burrill,  with  the  blonde  hair, 
who  has  been  looking  this  way  so  often,  and  is 
now  examining  the  falls  through  Mr.  Addison's 
Claude  Lorraine  glass, — is  she  also  one  of  Miss 
Rutherford's  belles  ? " 

"  Tu  as  le  dis"  replied  Frank,  laughing.  "  She 
is  Miss  Pella  Morton.  Would  you  like  an  in- 
troduction to  her,  Count  Gueret  ?  "  asked  Frank, 
with  mischievous  eagerness. 

o 

"  You  are  too  kind,"  returned  the  count,  in 
French. 

"Going  up  to  Breta,  under  pretence  of  ad- 
justing the  pretty  bow  at  her  throat,  she  whis- 
pered :  "  Keep  Col.  Conynghame  with  you, 
under  penalty  of  death,  while  I  ship  the  count." 

1  he  bilious  count  was  entirely  carried  away 
by  the  Grecian  features,  spotless  complexion, 


"  Did  I  Not  Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?  "     199 

and  blonde  beauty  of  Pella.  This  Frank  saw 
with  a  feeling  akin  to  rapture,  as,  leaving  him 
with  her,  she  returned  to  Breta  and  de  Grey, 
Conynghame  meeting  her  half  way,  and  the  four 
then,  as  with  one  accord,  wandered  off  into  the 
shade  of  the  woods  and  down  by  the  river,  Miss 
Rutherford  saying  as  they  passed  her  :  "  We 
are  to  breakfast  at  nine,  and  we  dine  at 
three." 

"  Do  you  believe  in  ghosts,  Col.  Conyng- 
hame ?  "  abruptly  asked  Frank.  They  were  sit- 
ting on  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  in  view  of  the 
falls,  and  had  been  cosily  conversing  on  various 
topics  of  interest. 

"  Do  you  believe  in  ghosts,  Miss  Bowers  ?  " 
returned  Conynghame,  lifting  his  mental  hat  to 
Frank,  not  in  the  least  taken  aback  by  the  un- 
expected question. 

"  Most  solemnly  I  do." 

"  Then  most  solemnly  I  also  do,"  said 
Conynghame. 

"  Then  you  do  believe  in  ghosts  ?  "  insisted 
Frank. 

"  I  never  saw  one,  Miss  Bowers." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  one,  or  any  thing  super- 
natural ?  "  enquired  Frank. 


20O  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Nor  ever  heard,  or  saw  sight  or  sound  but 
that  could  be  easily  accounted  for  ?  " 

"  I  wish  I  could  arrive  at  what  you  really  do 
believe,  Col.  Conynghame,"  urged  Frank,  with 
a  laugh. 

"  A  confession  of  faith  !  Well,  then,  I  be- 
lieve we  have  overhead  one  of  the  most  charm- 
ing skyscapes,  and  at  our  feet  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  landscapes,  and  sitting  beside  me 
two  of  the  most  lovely — " 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  mean  that,"  broke  in  Frank  ; 
"  that,  of  course,  I  know  I  am  wonderfully  hand- 
some ;  my  glass  tells  me  that ;  what  is  called  a 
striking  girl — though  I  never  struck  any  one 
to  my  recollection, — and  that  my  friend  Breta 
here  is  lovely  beyond  description  ;  my  eyes  tell 
me  that.  But  what  I  like  to  get  at  is  what  peo- 
ple really  are.  I  know  what  Breta  is,  and  I 
know  what  Mr.  de  Grey  thinks  and  believes." 

"  Do  you,  Miss  Bowers  ?  If  so,  please  tell 
me,  for  I  really  do  not  know  myself,"  interposed 
de  Grey.  "  And  as  for  Ralph  Conynghame, 
what  he  really  is  or  believes  is  past  finding  out, 
he  is  such  a  deep  character." 

At  this  they  all  laughed. 

"  I  see  I  must  defend  myself,"  said  Conyng- 


"  Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?  "     201 

hame,  "  from  the  profundity  aspersion  by  affirm- 
ing that  since  I  learned  that  the  thousandth 

o 

trituration  of  a  grain  of  any  drug  is  more  potent 
to  cure  than  the  grain  itself,  I  have  grown  so 
catholic  in  my  beliefs  that  I  am  ready  to  en- 
dorse ghosts  or  any  thing  else.  In  fact,  the 
philosophy  of  ghosts  is  the  philosophy  of  homce' 
opathy  carried  to  its  ultimate,  is  it  not  ?  For  as 
the  thousandth  trituration  of  a  grain  of  mercury 
can  contain  no  perceivable  particle  of  the  drug 
itself,  only  the  spirit — so  to  speak — of  the 
drug,  so  the  ghost  of  a  human  being  being 
only  the  spirit,  is  without  its  crude,  physical 
form.  And,  if  we  credit  tradition  and  revela- 
tion, we  must  accord  more  power  to  the  spirit 
out  of  the  body  than  in  it." 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  he  is  deep  ?  "  said  de- 
Grey. 

"  I  am  glad  you  believe  in  ghosts,  Col. 
Conygnhame,  that  is,  if  you  do,  for  you  will 
probably  make  the  acquaintance  of  some  at 
Elmwood,  Mr.  de  Grey  having  bought  them  all 
up.  But  the  hitch  seems  to  be  that,  like  Owen 
Glendovver's,  they  will  not  come  when  he  doth 
call." 

"  They  probably  are  sensible   shadows,  pre- 


2O2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ferring  the  society  of  ladies  to  that  of  men,"  re- 
turned Conynghame. 

"  Breta  and  I  never  saw  or  heard  one  of 
them,  so  that  cannot  be,"  affirmed  Frank. 

"  Dropping  shadows  for  something  substan- 
tial," said  Breta,  "  are  we  not  overstaying  our 
time,  and  are  we  not  all  very  hungry  ?  " 

"  It  is  just  nine,"  replied  Conynghame,  look- 
ing at  his  watch.  "  Evidently  delightful  conver- 
sation has  more  charms  for  us  than  the  pros- 
pect of  a  good  breakfast." 

"  I  for  one  am  almost  famished  !  "  exclaimed 
Frank,  laughing,  "  but  I  did  not  like  to  be  the 
first  to  own  it." 

"  Let  us  return  at  once,  on  Miss  Bowers'  ac- 
count," said  de  Grey,  offering  his  hand  to  assist 
Breta  to  rise.  "  Not  that  I  have  any  personal 
interest  in  breakfast,"  he  added. 

"  There  is  brother  Tom  !  "  exclaimed  Frank, 
as  they  arrived  at  the  encampment.  "  Do,  Col. 
Conynghame,  go  with  me  and  help  rescue 
him.  He  looks  like  a  stray  wolf  in  a  flock  of 
sheep." 

Brother  Tom  being  reached  and  welcomed 
warmly  by  Frank,  who  had  not  seen  him  for 
two  years,  she  introduced  him  to  Conynghame, 


"  Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deepf  "     203 

and  then  took  him  over  to  Breta,  saying  as  she 
introduced  him  to  her  and  de  Grey : 

"  Brother  Tom  has  but  just  returned  from  the 
East.  Has  seen  the  Tycoon  of  Japan,  the 
Shah  of  Persia,  and  the  Great  Mogul.  Has 
seen  the  Holy  Land  and  the  unholy  land  about 
the  Levant,  where  the  Turks  cut  people's  heads 
off,  and  buy  and  sell  women.  Has  seen  the 
pyramids  and  the  needles  and  every  thing  worth 
seeing  and  every  thing  not  worth  seeing.  And 
now,  Tom,  give  an  account  of  yourself.  How 
long  have  you  been  here  ?  " 

"  Give  us  a  rest,  Sis.,— let  me  catch  my  breath, 
I  feel  so  entirely  taken  possession  of.  It  is 
quite  cheering  to  find  you  have  lost  neither 
your  good  looks  nor  your  habit  of  tormenting. 
Well,  then,  I  have  been  here  not  over  five  min- 
utes. The  conductor  let  me  off  at  the  flag 
station  about  a  half  a  mile  below,  and  directed 
me  to  Glen  Falls,"  replied  Tom,  with  so  much 
of  his  sister's  expression  and  features  that  they 
might  have  been  taken  for  twins,  except  that 
Tom  had  some  three  years  more  over  his  head. 

"  Come  with  me,  Tom,  and  I  will  take  you 
to  pay  your  respects  to  Miss  Rutherford,"  said 
Frank. 


204  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Thank  you,  Sis.,  you  must  take  good  care 
of  me  now,  for  I  was  beginning  to  feel,  like  the 
lost  Pleiad,  in  this  strange  crowd,"  responded 
her  brother. 

"  I  beg  you  will  return  with  your  sister,  Mr. 
Bowers,  for  she  is  under  a  positive  engagement 
to  appear  at  the  breakfast-table  with  me,"  urged 
Conynghame. 

"  Tom,  you  must  see  that  I  keep  all  my 
engagements,"  said  Frank,  as  she  took  her 
brother's  arm. 

After  introducing  him  to  Miss  Rutherford 
and  Miss  de  Grey — who  were  on  their  way  to 
the  breakfast-tables — Frank  told  him  she  was 
going  to  make  him  acquainted  with  one  of  the 
prettiest  and  best  girls  in  the  world. 

"If  she  is  half  so  pretty  as  that  lovely  Breta 
you  have  always  been  bragging  about,  Sis.,  to 
whom  I  was  just  introduced,  I  shall  consider 
myself  a  lucky  dog  ;  for  I  see  she  is  likely  to 
be  spoken  for  by  that  handsome,  dreamy,  de 
Grey." 

"  Could  you  see  that,  Tom,  and  in  such  a 
moment  of  time  ?" 

"  A  fellow  that  has  been  around  the  world 
learns  to  use  his  eyes,  Sis.  Why,  that  de  Grey 


"  Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?  "     2o5 

chap  could  not  keep  his  eyes  from  her  a  mo- 
ment. He  is  catawampusly,  as  the  boys  call 
it,  '  chewed  up.'  Show  me  the  other,  Sis." 

"  I  see,  Tom,  you  have  not  forgotten  your 
classical  education  (I  allude  to  modern  classics) 
while  abroad.  Now  the  young  lady  to  whom 
I  am  going  to  introduce  you  is  also  my  friend  ; 
and — I  can  tell  you — is  a  staving  fine  girl." 

"  Trot  her  out,  Sis.,"  said  Tom  ;  "  but  let  me  re- 
mark en  passant  that  I  see  you  have  not  grown 
rusty  either  in  the  classics — I  allude  to  modern 
classics  also." 

"  Tom,  we  are  Bowers  ;  I  the  right  and  you 
the  left  Bower.  No,  I  shall  not  trot  her  out, 
but  shall  trot  you  to  her,  and  you  must  wait  on 
her  at  breakfast  and  be  excessively  polite. 
That  is  she  talking  with  that  white-haired  Judge 
Walton  ;  and  Sadie  Burril,  let  me  tell  you— 

"  Oh,  it  is  Miss  Burrill,  is  it,  of  whom  you 
have  written  to  me?  She  is  quite  on  the  Breta 
Garnet  style,  I  see — 

"  No,  Tom,  you  don't  see.  Wait  till  you  are 
acquainted  with  her  before  you  pass  judgment 
on  Sadie,"  replied  Frank. 

At  breakfast,  Breta  and  Frank,  seated  next 
de  Grey  and  Conynghame,  and  opposite  Torn 


206  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Bowers  and  Sadie  Burrill,  and  everybody  else 
seated  near  every  one  they  wished  to  be  near, 
all  things  went  lovely. 

Among  the  rest  of  the  luxuries  and  elegancies 
that,  to  borrow  the  expression  of  the  old-time 
novelists,  the  table  groaned  under,  was  a  huge 
dish  of  trout ;  and  Mr.  Atkinson  and  his  satellites 
were  the  heroes  of  the  hour  while  the  trout 
were  being  discussed.  They  had  caught  their 
trout  at  daylight,  and  Mr.  Atkinson  was  showing 
some  of  his  flies  to  the  gentleman  seated  beside 
him. 

"  Let  me  see  your  flies  and  bugs,  Mr.  Atkin- 
son, please  ?  Are  they  June  bugs?  And  what 
flies  do  you  fish  with  in  July  and  August  ?  Do 
you  impale  them  alive  on  those  hooks  ?  How 
cruel !  I  shall  never  eat  another  trout,"  and 
Frank  reached  out  her  exquisitely  modelled  lit- 
tle brown  hand  toward  Mr.  Atkinson,  but  one 
seat  from  her. 

Delighted  that  so  handsome  a  young  lady 
should  interest  herself  in  the  contents  of  his  fly- 
book,  he  leaned  over  toward  her  past  Conyng- 
hame,  his  open  book  in  hand. 

"  They  are  made  to  resemble  living  flies  as 
nearly  as  possible,  you  see,  Miss  Bowers,"  said 


"Did  I  Not   Tell  You  He  Is  Deep?"     207 

he.  "  Trout  like  these  little  black  gnats  ;  and  in 
the  twilight,  these  moth  millers,  and  this — called 

o 

the  royal  coachman.  And  on  bright  days  they 
like  this  fly,  the  queen  ;  or  this,  called  the  grisly 
king." 

"  I  see,  the  whole  royal  family.  How  beauti- 
ful they  are  !  "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  What  is  this 
bright  fellow  ?  "-  she  asked,  selecting  one  from 
the  open  book  before  her. 

"  The  scarlet  ibis,  Miss  Bowers.  It  is  entire- 
ly red,  you  see.  And  that  dainty  little  fly  with 
white  wings  and  green  body  is  the  coachman  ; 
similar,  as  to  wings,  to  the  royal  coachman.  It 
is  a  very  killing  fly." 

"  And  these  with  gray  wings,  yellow  body, 
and  scarlet  tail  ?  " 

"  We  call  them  the  professor, — with  one  of 
these  I  caught  nearly  all  my  trout  this  morning. 
You  see  we  do  not  use  June  bugs,  Miss  Bow- 
ers." 

"  And  these,  Mr.  Atkinson, — these  sprawly 
little  black  things  without  wings  ?  " 

"  These,  Miss  Bowers,  are  hackles.  Trout 
probably  take  them  for  some  kind  of  spider. 
They  are  very  killing  at  times." 

Much   interested   in    the   flies,  Frank    called 


208  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Breta's  attention  to  them,  but  her  head  was 
turned  toward  General  Leighton,  who  was  talk- 
ing to  her  with  great  earnestness,  de  Grey 
also  listening.  So  Frank  showed  them  to 
Sadie,  across  the  glitter  of  cut  glass  and  the 
perfume  of  heliotrope,  pansies,  and  roses. 


XIII. 

^STHETICISM. 

ON  the  archery  ground,  after  breakfast,  the 
contest  ran  high,  when  a  new  impetus 
was  given  to  the  efforts  of  the  contestants 
by  Dunraven,  who  had  just  arrived  with  Mr. 
Whyte. 

It  was  soon  found  to  be  useless  to  draw  a 
bow  against  the  skill  of  Dunraven,  whose  ar- 
rows, as  though  they  were  birds  with  con- 
sciousness in  their  winged  flight,  were  sure  to 
find  the  centre  each  time  one  left  his  bow. 

And  so  easily  did  he  effect  his  success,  his 
superior  height,  breadth  of  chest  and  shoulders, 
and  commanding  grace  all  showing  to  such  ad- 
mirable advantage,  that  all  around  him  seemed 
quite  dwarfed  and  of  little  account  in  his  pres- 
ence. 

"  Like  poor  old  Uncle  Ned,  I  shall  have  to 
'  give  up  de  fiddle  an'  de  bow ' — oh — oh  !  " 

20Q 


2IO  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

exclaimed  Frank,  with  a  brilliant  look  and  laugh 
as  she  laid  aside  her  quiver  and  bow.  "  I  was 
quite  distinguishing  myself,  Mr.  Dunraven,  un- 
til you  so  mercilessly  extinguished  me  with 
your  sharp-shooting." 

Dunraven  bowed  and  smiled,  showing  a  set 
of  teeth  as  strong,  white,  and  even  as  those  of 
a  young  royal  Bengal  tiger. 

Selma  was  saying  something  to  her  brother, 
and  little  Nellie  Bowers  and  Gracie  Gay  had 
just  run  up  to  Breta  to  tell  her  for  the  tenth 
time  that  morning  what  a  perfectly  splendid 
time  they  were  having,  when  Dunraven  crossed 
over  to  Breta  and  offered  her  his  arm  "for  a  short 
promenade,"  he  said,  as  he  towered  down  over 
her  with  a  grand  chivalrous  air  that  proclaimed : 
"  All  I  am,  all  I  achieve,  I  lay  at  your  feet." 

Breta  walked  with  him  for  a  little,  until,  de- 
claring herself  fatigued,  she  sat  on  the  camp- 
chair  he  offered  her  under  a  great  tree  ;  he 
throwing  himself  gracefully  at  her  feet  on  a 
grassy  projection  formed  by  the  root  of  the 
tree,  and  supporting  himself  with  careless  ease 
on  one  elbow. 

He  made  himself  wonderfully  interesting  (as 
he  could)  in  an  animated  taking-her-by-storm 


ALstheticism.  211 

way,  giving1  her  the  details  of  some  recent 
doings  at  her  aunt's  in  London  ;  reading  aloud, 
with  amusing  commentaries,  portions  of  her 
aunt's  letter  that  he  had  just  that  morning  re- 
ceived. 

"  Your  Aunt  Jane  is  eagerly  anxious  to  see 
you,  Breta.  Shall  I  write  her  that  you  will 
some  day  soon  make  her  a  visit  with  me  ? " 
asked  Dunraven,  so  lightly  that  his  meaning  in 
the  coupling  himself  with  her  was  covered  by 
the  assumed  indifference  of  his  tone. 

"  I  fear  not,  Noel,"  replied  Breta,  with  quiet 
decision,  but  also  with  a  wistful,  pleading  look 
in  her  tender  eyes,  that  he  seemed  to  lack  the 
last  line  instinct  to  heed. 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  to  say  more  just 
at  present,  Breta  mza,"  returned  he,  quickly. 
"  But  recollect,  carissima,  you  have  long  ago 
given  me  the  benefit  of  the  doubt,"  and  he 
laughed  lightly  and  musically  ;  but  with  all  his 
airiness  he  was  watchfully  mindful  of  the  least 
change  in  the  varying  expression  of  her  face. 

"  Let  London  go,"  said  he,  as  Breta  made  no 
reply,  and  he  swept  the  arm  on  which  he  was 
not  leaning,  in  a  graceful  semicircular  curve 
from  him,  "  Italy  remains, — warm,  sunny, 


2 1 2  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

song-loving  Italy.  You  can  never  get  away 
from  the  recollection  of  the  old  Italian  days, 
Breta." 

"Never,"  replied  Breta,  gently,  the  wistful 
look  returning  to  her  eyes. 

"  And  all  that  old  Italian  life  is  so  minutely 
inwoven  with  your  unworthy  cousin  Noel,  that 
with  your  affection  for  Italy,  for  Milan,  there 
must  also  be  some  little  affection  for  him,  cara 
Breta  ?  " 

"You  are  right,  Noel, — a  great  deal  of  affec- 
tion for  him,"  returned  Breta,  her  tone  almost 
sad  in  its  quietness. 

"And  now  we  will  talk  no  more  of  your 
cousin,  Noel  Dunraven,"  said  he,  lightly,  adroitly 
changing  the  subject.  "  I  will  tell  you  a  curious 
incident."  And  again  he  interested  her  by  a 
graphic  description  of  his  meeting  with  a  cer- 
tain New  York  celebrity. 

Breta  listened,  sustaining  her  part  of  the  con- 
versation with  the  same  pitying  gentleness  that 
Frank  had  so  often  observed  and  marvelled  at 
when  she  had  seen  her  talking  with  Dun- 

o 

raven. 

Just  then  Mr.  Whyte  came  up,  and  at  a 
glance  saw  how  pale  Breta  had  grown,  and 


jZLstheticism.  213 

divined  the  cause, — that  last  fine  instinct  he 
never  lacking. 

"  Noel,"  said  he,  "  Gen.  Leighton  would  like 
you  to  give  him  some  facts  as  to  the  present 
condition  of  social  sestheticism  abroad.  Will 
you  ?  " 

Secretly  flattered  that  so  distinguished  a  mili- 
tary character  should  seek  information  of  him, 
Dunraven  was  yet  more  unwilling  to  lose  the 
present  opportunity  for  a  prolonged  interview 
with  Breta,  but  Breta  herself  decided  the 
matter  by  saying: 

"  Of  course,  Noel  will.  Let  us  go  at  once, 
Uncle  Ray.  See,  Gen.  Leighton  looks  this  way 
and  expects  us,"  and  as  she  put  her  arm 
through  her  uncle's,  he  felt  that  she  was  per- 
ceptibly trembling.  Tacitly  acknowledging  the 
little  odd,  grateful  look  she  gave  him,  at  once 
appealing  and  imperative,  by  one  of  his  twisted 
smiles,  they  all  three  proceeded  (little  Mr. 
Whyte  looking  like  one  of  Gulliver's  Lillipu- 
tians beside  the  young  giant,  his  nephew)  to 
where  Gen.  Leighton  had  a  little  court  around 
him.  M.  Dupont,  a  French  diplomat;  Judge 
Walton,  Squire  Atwood,  Counsellor  Black, 
Count  Gueret,  and  others  of  less  note,  were  all 


214  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

seated  on  camp-chairs,  projections  of  rock,  or 
stumps  of  trees,  discussing  political  questions 
and  enjoying  the  busy  scene  on  the  lawn  before 
them. 

Dunraven,  handing  Breta  a  chair  beside  her 
uncle,  stood  himself,  giving  his  information  with 
such  an  understanding  of  his  subject,  that  little 
by  little  he  found  himself  delivering  a  lecture 
to  the  general's  lead. 

They  were  on  a  grassy  eminence  overlook- 
ing the  lawn,  and  as  Dunraven  proceeded, 
group  after  group  came  to  listen  ;  until  finally 
a  well-packed  semicircle  was  formed  in  front 
of  the  rocky  rostrum  on  which  he  stood,  all  at- 
tentive to  his  elegantly  chosen  words  and  gest- 
ures. 

Dating  the  modern  aesthetic  movement,  the 
English  Renaissance,  from  the  Gothic  revival 
and  Pre-Raphaelistic  association  that  sprang 
from  Ruskin's  teachings,  he  said  the  movement 
might  be  called  the  Decorative  Revival,  as  the 
whole  effort  was  simply  a  revolt  from  the  prevail- 
ing ugliness  everywhere  manifested,  in  favor  of 
the  worship  of  the  beautiful.  He  affirmed  that 
the  realization  of  the  ideal  was  becoming  daily 
more  manifest  in  home-adornment,  dress,  and 


&stheticism.  2 1 5 

all  the  higher  forms  of  art  as  well,  through  the 
impetus  given  by  the  aesthetic  movement  ;  that 
the  realm  of  taste,  with  beauty  for  queen,  en- 
shrining perfection  of  form  and  color,  was  at 
last  finding  a  realization  in  absolute  unity  of 
conception.  The  sun-flower  and  lily  school 
with  their  utterly-utterisms,  their  precious-pre- 
ciousness,  intense-intensities,  and  hollow-hol- 
lownesses,  he  ridiculed  as  belonging  to  the  spuri- 
ous outgrowth  of  fashionable  pretence.  He 
gave  a  number  of  utterly-utter  anecdotes  that 
elicited  peals  of  laughter.  He  quoted  Ruskin, 
Keats,  Shelley,  and  also  the  professedly  aesthetic 
authorities  ;  and  wound  up  by  saying  that  until 
Ruskin,  holding  up  Turner  as  an  example,  had 
insisted  that  nature  was  the  only  model  to  study 
and  copy,  young  artists  were  being  taught  to 
copy  solely  from  the  lifeless  models  of  the  acad- 
emies ;  which  was  equivalent  to  insisting  that 
young  poets  and  musicians  should  copy  mas- 
ters in  verse  or  music  instead  of  striking  out 
new  fields  for  themselves,  which,  alas  !  for  their 
readers  and  hearers,  many  had  already  done 
and  were  doing.  And  here  he  provoked 
another  laugh  by  the  way  he  said  it. 

Various  were   the  remarks    elicited   by  the 


216  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

aesthetic  lecture,  Gen.  Leighton  expressing  him- 
self as  having  enjoyed  it  greatly ;  and  many 
went  up  to  Dunraven,  shaking  hands  with  him 
and  congratulating  him  for  so  pleasant  a  diver- 
sion. 

"  Oh  !  is  n't  he  a  perfect  love  ?  "  exclaimed 
Miss  Beebe  to  her  companion,  Miss  Rivers. 

"  That  is  the  ninety-ninth  time  you  Ve  said 
it,"  returned  the  amiable  Miss  Rivers. 

"  I  certainly  never  saw  such  exquisitely 
graceful  attitudes  nor  heard  so  fine  a  voice  in 
any  speaker  before  in  all  my  life,"  affirmed  Lina 
Beebe. 

"  You  had  better  tell  him  so  and  done  with 
it.  There  he  goes  with  Miss  de  Grey." 

"  Oh,  he  knows  it  well  enough." 

o 

"  Yes,  and  your  admiration  won't  help  you 
one  jot,  Lina  Beebe  ;  I  can  tell  you  that.  Breta 
Garnet  is  his  little  game." 

"  Anybody  could  tell,  Clara  Rivers,  that  you 
had  a  lot  of  rowdy  brothers  at  home  by  the 
way  you  talk.  Of  course  Breta  Garnet  is  his 
attraction.  She  's  just  too  lovely  for  any  thing, 
and  every  one  is  attracted  to  her.  Yes,  and 
Noel  Dunraven  will  be  the  one  to  get  her  in 
spite  of  Mr.  de  Grey  and  every  one  else.  It  is 


217 

the  steadily  persistent,  never  dashed  by  rebuffs, 
who  win  the  day." 

"  You  are  mighty  pat  with  Mr.  Dunraven's 
name,  Lina.  But  whoever  gets  him  it  won't 
be  you,"  asserted  Miss  Rivers. 

"  Of  course  it  won't  be  me,  you  spiteful  thing. 
I  have  just  barely  been  introduced  to  him,  and  I 
never  expect  to  be  any  better  acquainted  with 
him.  You  and  Fella  Morton  would  make  a — 
not  good  span,  for  you  would  chew  each  other 
up  like  the  Kilkenny  cats.  If  anybody  can  stand 
you,  I  can  ;  for  I  don't  care  a  button  what  you 
say,"  and  Lina  Beebe  laughed  merrily. 

By  this  time  Noel  Dunraven's  speech  might 
wellnigh  have  been  forgotten,  there  were  so 
many  passing  things  to  interest  and  attract ;  but 
Squire  Atwood  was  still  growling  to  any  one  he 
could  get  to  listen  to  him  about  "  this  sort  of 
thing."  He  said  it  was  "all  bosh";  that  no 
one  could  say  :  "  Take  such  an  attitude,  look 
thus,  wear  such  a  dress,  and  you  will  express 
intensity  of  soul.  No  one,"  carped  the  squire, 
"  can  set  up  a  standard  of  thought  or  feeling. 
It — this  modern  aesthetic  nonsense — is  an  ex- 
travagant and  distorted  outgrowth  of  a  truly 
great  and  much-needed  reform  started  into  life 


2i8  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

by  John  Ruskin,  who  never  dreamed  of  the 
hideous  thing  that  was  going  to  be  shadow- 
ing and  confounded  with  his  teachings,  any 
more  than  Keats  or  Shelley  dreamed  of  what 
their  verses  could  be  tortured  into  And  now 
it  is  creeping  over  to  this  country, — this  spuri- 
ous thing,  that  has  never  done  any  thing  really 
for  the  furtherance  of  true  art, — to  spoil  our 
manners,  vitiate  our  taste,  and  corrupt  our 
morals,  as  it  has  done  abroad." 

But  no  one  paid  much  heed  to  the  squire,  as 
he  was  so  well  known  to  be  a  cynic,  who  was 
always  snarling  on  the  opposition  side. 

The  day  was  progressing,  and  Dunraven, 
finding  he  could  not  get  another  opportunity 
with  Breta  apart  from  de  Grey,  vanished  from 
the  grounds. 

It  was  half  past  four  o'clock ;  the  guests  had 
all  dined,  and  so  sumptuously  that  even  Squire 
Atwood  had  become  smooth  and  smiling. 

Of  a  sudden  came  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning 
and  a  heavy  clap  of  thunder. 

A  man,  clad  in  homespun  blouse  and  butter- 
nut trousers,  mounted  on  a  horse  and  leading 
another,  appearing  as  though  dropped  down 
from  the  clouds  as  precursor  to  the  threatened 
rain,  spoke  as  from  a  rostrum  : 


2 1 9 

"  Ladies  and  gents,"  said  he,  "you  will  have 
to  make  tracks  up  to  my  house  as  fast  as  you 
kin  git  up  and  git.  I  'm  farmer  Crovvley,  and 
own  all  about  here.  My  house  is  big,  and  will 
hold  the  hull  on  you.  That  air  rain  will  be 
down  on  us  in  the  shake  of  a  sheep's  tail. 
Pete,  my  man,  said  it  wa'n't  goin'  to  rain  ;  but 
I  jest  went  fur  Pete  bald-headed,  and  ef  he 
did  n't  gear  up  quicker  'n  lightnin',  you  bet ! 
And  here  I  am  with  them  hosses  to  pull  up  yer 
waggin  of  vittles  inter,  my  barn.  And,  ladies 
and  gents,  when  your  carriages  come  back  from 
Lea  they  can  pick  you  up  at  my  house,  jest  up 
on  the  hill  there.  But  you  'd  all  better  git." 

All  started  for  the  farmer's  house  without 
waiting  for  a  second  invitation,  another  sharp 
flash  of  lightning  and  the  large  loose  rain  drops 
serving  as  so  many  notes  of  warning ;  the  wait- 
ers, piling  the  baskets  and  packages  of  ladies' 
wraps  and  belongings,  with  little  attention  to 
order,  into  the  covered  wagon,  while  the  farmer 
was  putting  to  his  horses,  waiters  and  farmer 
rode  merrily  up  into  the  great  barn  of  the 
farm. 

The  rain,  seeming  to  understand  the  neces- 
sity of  the  case,  held  off  for  a  little.  And  just 


220  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

as  the  party  were  all  fairly  housed,  it  came 
down  in  torrents, — a  bucketful  seemingly  to 
each  drop, — the  lightning  flashing  and  the  thun- 
der crashing  and  rolling,  while  the  sky  became 
black  almost  as  night. 

Suddenly  as  the  thunder-shower  came  up 
just  as  suddenly  it  subsided.  And  in  less  than 
two  hours  the  whole  party  were  standing  out  in 
the  sunshine  preparing  to  get  into  the  carriages 
before  the  door  of  farmer  Crowley's  home- 
stead. 

"  Where  is  Nelly  Bowers  ?  She  was  here 
but  a  moment  ago,"  said  Miss  Rutherford,  who 
was  counting  heads. 

"  I  was  just  now  conversing  with  Miss  Nel- 
ly," remarked  de  Grey,  casting  his  eyes  around. 

"  Nelly  was  asking  us  something  about  the 
trains,"  added  Breta.  The  "  us  "  sounded  very 
suggestive,  Frank  thought,  but  she  did  not 
comment  on  it  then,  but  instead  suddenly  ex- 
claimed : 

"  That  is  her  voice  ;  Nell,  is  screaming  for  me. 
She  's  down  on  the  railroad  track,"  and  Frank 
dashed  off  across  the  road  in  the  direction  of 
the  call,  Breta  hastening  after  her,  followed  by 
de  Grey  and  Conynghame. 


SELstheticism.  221 

The  piping  demand  for  "  Frank  "  brought  her 
to  the  railroad,  that  for  several  miles  ran  along 
what  was  called  the  "  dug-way."  Down  in  this 
dug-way  was  Nell.,  vainly  striving  to  climb  up 
the  slippery  clay  of  its  steep  bank,  that  had  been 
converted  into  a  thick  paste  by  the  rain. 

"  Here,  Nell.,  catch  hold  of  my  scarf!  "  And 
Frank,  impetuously  unwinding  her  long  scarf 
from  her  shoulders  as  the  others  came  up  to  her, 
threw  the  end  of  it  to  Nelly.  But,  unfortunate- 
ly, standing  too  near  the.  edge,  a  portion  of  the 
soft  bank  crumbled  away  from  under  her  feet, 
and  she  caught  hold  of  Breta's  hand  to  steady 
herself. 

Slipping  more  and  more,  de  Grey,  think- 
ing to  save  both  from  sliding  down  the  bank, 
leaned  forward  and  grasped  Breta's  arm.  But 
the  impetus  already  gained  by  Frank  was  too 
great,  and  in  much  less  time  than  it  has  taken 
to  narrate  the  disaster,  all  three  were  sliding 
rapidly  down  the  embankment. 

That  accomplished,  the  question  arose,  after 
a  certain  amount  of  inevitable  laughter,  what 
was  to  be  done  ? 

Frank  suggested  ropes  ;  and  Conynghame, 
from  the  top,  looking  up  and  down  each  way, 


222  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

said  he  could  see  no  break  in  the  banks  on  either 
side  of  the  road. 

"  No,  Ralph,"  replied  de  Grey,  "  it  is  one  in- 
terminable sliding-plane  as  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach,  and,  as  Miss  Bowers  proposes,  ropes  seem 
to  be  the  only  remedy." 

"  I  will  go  at  once  to  the  farm-house — 

"  Perhaps  the  farmer  has  a  balloon,"  inter- 
rupted Breta. 

"  A  balloon  by  all  means,  Ralph,"  assented 
de  Grey. 

"  Here  comes  Mr.  Bowers,  he  may  suggest 
something,"  said  Conynghame  from  his  height 
above  them. 

"  We  are  down  here,  Tom !  "  exclaimed 
Frank. 

"  So  I  perceive,  Sis.,"  he  replied,  looking  down 
over  the  inclined  plane.  "  Is  it  pleasant  down 
there  ?  " 

"  Stop  your  fooling,  Tom,  and  help  Col. 
Conynghame  devise  a  plan  for  getting  us  out, 
that  we  need  not  be  compelled  to  walk  all  the 
way  to  Lea  on  railroad  ties.  A  motion  has 
been  made  and  seconded  for  ropes  and  another 
for  a  balloon." 

"  Stop  your  laughing,  Sis.,  and  listen.     About 


sEstheticism.  223 

a  quarter  of  a  mile  below  this  are  steps  leading 
up  to  a  platform  ;  a  flag-station,  you  know, 
colonel.  I  walked  here  from  that  flag-station 
this  morning,  and  know  all  about  it.  You  will 
have  a  short  promenade  in  that  sequestered 
valley,  some  rough  steps  to  ascend,  and  I  will 
have  a  carriage  at  the  platform  for  you  before 
you  get  there." 

"  We  shall  owe  you  an  eternal  debt  of  grati- 
tude, Mr.  Bowers,"  said  de  Grey.  "  Ralph,  will 
you  go  with  Mr.  Bowers,  or,  returning  to  your 
boyish  sports,  take  a  slide  down  the  bank  and 
join  us?  " 

"  Boyish  sports  have  a  powerful  charm  for 
me.  I  will  join  you,  Joslyn.  Excuse  me,  Bow- 
ers," and  planting  his  heel  firmly  in  the  yield- 
ing clay,  Conynghame  contrived  to  take  a  few 
steps  and  then  slid  the  rest  of  the  way,  and  on 
his  safe  arrival  there  was  another  laugh. 

"  I  will  assuage  Miss  Rutherford's  fears  and 
be  at  the  platform  in  time,"  exclaimed  Tom 
Bowers,  as  he  hurried  off  laughing. 

"  You  little  witch,  how  did  you  ever  man- 
age to  get  down  here  ?  "  asked  Frank  of  her 
sister. 

Nelly,  standing  big-eyed  during  the  scene, 


224  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

her  white  dress  and  cardinal  sash  so  deeply 
dyed  with  yellow  clay  that  she  appeared  rather 
stylishly  trimmed  with  the  fashionable  old-gold 
color,  replied  that  she  heard  the  cars  whistle 
and  thought  she  could  run  and  see  them  pass 
and  get  back  in  plenty  of  time  for  the  carriages  ; 
but  leaning  over  too  far,  as  the  cars  passed,  she 
had  slipped  and  rolled  down  the  bank. 

While  Nelly  was  explaining,  they  were  laugh- 
ing and  walking  merrily  on,  taking  the  ties, 
some  of  which  near  together  and  some  far 
apart  made  the  avoidance  of  the  mud  quite  a 
science. 

"  Miss  Nelly,"  said  de  Grey,  giving  her  his 
hand  to  help  her  spring  over  a  wide  pool, 
"  you  were  very  wise  in  taking  your  slide  after 
the  train  had  gone  by  instead  of  before." 

"  Oh,  don't,  Mr.  de  Grey !  You  make  me 
shudder !  Don't  pile  up  the  agony  ;  we  pass 
our  whole  lives  on  the  fence  of  life.  I  never 
like  to  look  on  the  dark  side  of  the  fence  until  I 
am  compelled  to,"  returned  Frank. 

"  I  came  very  near  the  dark  side  of  the  fence 
once,"  observed  Conynghame  ;  and  he  related 
an  incident  in  his  war  experience  that  was  very- 
thrilling. 


j&stketicism,  225 

"  I  often  wonder  whether  the  bright  or  the 
dark  side  preponderates,  but  conclude  for  the 
bright  side,"  said  Breta. 

"  The  bright  side  of  life  without  a  question," 
acquiesced  de  Grey,  helping  Breta  over  a  muddy 
rivulet  into  which  she  had  nearly  slipped. 

"  There  comes  a  train,  I  hear  it  whistle!  "  ex- 
claimed Frank. 

"  And  from  around  this  curve !  "  and  de  Grey 
sprang  lightly  to  the  opposite  track,  and  ran 
partly  up  the  bank.  "The  train  is  coming  on 
your  track,  Ralph.  Get  the  ladies  over  on  this 
side,  and  as  quickly  as  possible,"  urged  he  from 
his  slippery  point  of  observation. 

The  train  thundered  by  just  as  they  were  all 
fairly  on  the  opposite  track.  "  Another  dark 
side  escaped,"  Frank  said.  And  then,  on  round- 
ing the  curve,  they  were  in  sight  of  the  plat- 
form and  of  Tom  Bowers,  who  was  sitting  on 
the  driver's  seat  of  a  carriage  with  Sadie  Burrill 
beside  him. 

And  a  merrier  party  of  six  (with  a  very  silent 
child  of  eleven,  wrapped  in  a  carriage  rug  to 
keep  her  from  taking  cold)  never  drove  home 
after  a  thunder-shower  from  a  picnic. 

Upon  leaving  the   feminine   portion    of  the 


226  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

carriage-load  at  the  seminary,  de  Grey  insisted 
so  strenuously  that  Bowers  should  return  with 
him  and  Ralph  to  Elmwood,  instead  of  going 
to  a  hotel,  as  Bowers  intended,  that  he  was 
forced  to  comply. 


XIV. 

THE    BLACK    ART. 

r  I  ""HERE  were  numerous  workmen  engaged 
X  in  resuscitating  the  grounds  and  house 
at  Elmwood.  And  although  the  plan  was 
for  the  most  part  de  Grey's,  Selma  was  so 
enthusiastic  in  helping  him  carry  it  out,  that 
the  engineering  process  came  finally  to  devolve 
as  much  on  her  as  on  him. 

And  to  carry  out  their  plans  with  ample  ad- 
vice, the  three  young  ladies  from  the  seminary 
(and  Count  Gueret's  especial  admiration — Miss 
Morton  also)  were  invited  to  spend  all  the  time 
at  Elmwood  that  Miss  Rutherford  could  spare 
to  them  ;  and  vehicles  were  kept  going  back 
and  forth  in  the  liveliest  manner, — the  gentle- 
men all  remaining  indefinitely. 

Weeds  disappeared  like  magic ;  trellises 
came  upright  ;  vines  seemed  to  train  them- 
selves, so  orderly  and  systematically  did  the 

227 


228  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

workmen  progress.  No  one  was  disturbed  ; 
but  all  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  enterprise 
with  so  much  zest,  that  it  was  like  a  continuous 
holiday. 

The  young  ladies  spent  all  of  their  Saturdays 
with  Selma,  and  on  the  first  of  these  Saturdays 
the  Cupids,  Venuses,  Mercuries,  and  Apollos, 
with  the  other  heathen  deities,  were  made 
smiling  and  happy  in  the  amount  of  sympathy 
and  assistance  to  an  upright  standing  again  in 
the  world  they  received  from  so  many  profes- 
sional workers  and  so  many  lookers  on. 

Selma's  hospitality  was  boundless,  and  as 
gracefully  and  tactfully  bestowed  as  it  was 
munificent. 

All  were  out  in  the  park  after  dinner  on  this 
first  Saturday,  and  were  grouped  around  the 
sculptor  and  the  garden  artist,  who,  with  their 
men,  were  unravelling  a  certain  complicated 
classical  story.  Frank  and  her  brother  were 
loitering  on  their  way  toward  them. 

"  I  assure  you,  Sis.,  that  your  friend  Miss 
Sadie  Burrill  is  one  of  the  most  delightfully 
agreeable  young  ladies  I  ever  met.  And  as 
for  that  Prince  Conyghame  of  yours— 

"  Of  mine  !     Now,  Tom,  don't  go  off  on  your 


The  Black  Art.  229 

hobby-horse  at  so  keen  a  gallop  ;  you  may 
throw  yourself." 

"  Oh,  now,  Frank,  don't.  Any  one  with  half 
an  eye  can  see  that  Prince  Conynghame  is  soft 
on  you,  and— 

"  There,  Tom,  don't  fatigue  yourself  with 
conjecture.  If  you  are  fishing  to  know  what  I 
think  of  him,  I  can  tell  you.  He  is  not  one 
whit  like  us  to  begin  with.  We  Bowers  are  all 
splurgists,  and  Col.  Conynghame  takes  time  to 
use  his  brain  and  think.  I  admire  him  exces- 
sively because  he  thinks,  and  because  he  is  so 
polished— unlike  us  again — and— 

"  I  '11  have  my  revenge  yet,  Sis.,  if  you  have 
gone  me  one  better  this  time.  But  I  say, 
Frank,  dare  I  mention  that  our  goatee'd  count, 
with  his  saffron  face,  is  dead  sweet  on  that  pale, 
Grecian-profiled  Miss — what-is-her-name  ?  " 

"  And  a  good  match  they  are,  that  is  all  I  can 
advance,"  said  Frank,  abruptly. 

"  I  see,  Sis.,  you  do  not  admire  your  friend, 
Miss  Pella." 

"  Never  you  mind,  Tom,  whom  I  admire.  But 
Tom,  whatever  we  Bowers  are,  we  are  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  with  the  true  instincts  and  fine 
conceptions  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and,  what 


230  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

is  more,  we  have  consciences  and  hearts.  We 
are  a  trifle  slang-y,  and  that  (and  Frank,  soften- 
ing, laughed),  but, — well,  Miss  Morton  does  not 
number  among  my  friends.  She  is  the  friend 
of  no  one  but  herself — al  solito  and  per  se." 

"  Yes,  I  remember  you  have  been  studying 
both  Italian  and  Latin,  Sis.  And  after  agree- 
ing with  you  that  we  Bowers  are  ladies  and 
gentlemen — why,  Sis.,  you  are  one  of  the  most 
aristocratic  and  lady-like-looking  girls  I  ever 
met  at  home  or  abroad, — I  will  add  :  Mole  ruit 
sua,  and  if  Molly  don't  rue  it  sure,  Pella  will 
shu-a.  She  '11  be  '  crushed  by  the  weight '  of 
your  displeasure." 

"Oh,  Tom,  you  cannot  crush  me  that  way, 
I  Ve  been  studying  French  too  : 

"  '  Ce  monde  est  pleine  de  fous,  et  qui  n'en  veut  pas  voir, 
Doit  se  renfermer  seul,  et  casser  son  miroir. ' 

But  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Tom,"  continued  his 
sister,  her  mischievous  smile  subsiding,  "  a  few 
languages  and  a  little  music  are  all  I  do  know.  I 
don't  know  grammar  ;  Miss  Rutherford  cannot 
pound  it  into  my  head.  I  have  a  vague  smat- 
tering of  some  of  the  ologies,  am  pretty  well 
up  in  literature  and  rhetoric,  but  as  for  arithme- 


The  Black  Art.  231 

tic — I  do  not  know  even  the  multiplication  ta- 
ble. And,  Tom,  I  leave  school  next  month — 
my  education  completed.  Is  it  not  horrible  ? 
This  is  between  us,  Tom." 

"  Locked  up  safe  here,"  said  Tom,  laying 
his  hand  melodramatically  on  his  heart.  "  But 
to  think  what  Prince  Conynghame  has  before 
him.  He  will  have  to  regularly  invest  in  slates, 
pencils,  and  spelling-books,  and  set  up  school. 
But,  I  say,  Sis.,  is  this  universal  in  Miss  Ruther- 
ford's school  ?  Your  friend  Miss  Burrill,  for  in- 
stance ?  Is  she  also — shall  I  have  to — " 

"  No,  Tom,  not  a  bit  of  it.  Sadie  knows  it 
all,  and  how  she  has  contrived  it  I  cannot  tell ; 
and  the  charming  part  of  it  is  that  no  one  would 
dream  she  knows  so  much,  she  is  so  modest 
and  unassuming,  and  so — ' 

"  Hold  on,  Frank,  do !  I  am  bad  off  enough 
now.  Don't  make  matters  worse  with  me  by 
such  wholesale  praise  of  her.  So,  she  's 
regularly  sapped,  is  she  ? — as  we  used  to  say  in 
college." 

"  You  are  regularly  sapped,  Tom,  and  in  a 
different  sense  from  what  your  college  means  : 
Sapientia  prima  est  stultitid  caruisse,  as  Horace 
says." 


232  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"As  bad  as  that,  Sis.?  But  if  Miss  Burrill 
has  the  sapientia  prima  that  will  '  exempt  her 
from  folly,'  it  will  not  make  so  much  matter 
about  me,  you  know." 

"  Miss  Burrill  is  not  to  be  joked  about,  Tom  ; 
she  is  too  good  for  jokes  or  jokers." 

"  That  is  what  I  am  afraid  of,  Frank,  for  it  is 
serious  with  me,  I  assure  you." 

"  Miss  Rutherford  is  prouder  of  Miss  Burrill 
than  of  any  other  pupil  in  her  school,  and  with 
good  reason." 

"Miss  Rutherford  is  not  proud  of  you,  Sis.?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  she  's  not.  But  that  is  not 
strange,  I  being  your  sister,  you  know,  Tom." 

"  Hit  him  again,  Sis.,  he  's  got  no  friends. 
But  come,  let  us  go  over  there  where  those 
marble  ladies  and  gentlemen  are  thickest,  and 
join  Miss  de  Grey  and  the  others  before  I  am 
utterly  extinguished." 

Rising  from  the  luxurious  seat  in  the  pretty, 
renovated  summer-house,  where  they  had  been 
resting,  Frank  started  on  by  the  side  of  her 
brother. 

"  Here  comes  Prince  Conynghame  after  you," 
said  he.  "  Jove !  what  a  brow  !  and  what  a 
presence !  and  what  a  bang-up  tie !  I  thought 


The  Black  Art.  233 

I  could  tie  a  cravat,  but  he  beats  me  out  of  sight ; 
I  see  I  shall  have  to  give  up  my  little  Sis.,  my 
playmate  of  so  many  years.  It  is  not  in  the 
heart  of  woman  to  withstand  such  a  tie  as  that." 

"Bear  in  mind,  Tom,  I  owe  you  one,  and 
when  it  comes  it  will  be  a  scorcher." 

"  The  sword  of — what-do-you-call-him  sus- 
pended over  my  head  by  a  long  black  hair." 

"  '  The  Sword  of  Bunker  Hill,'  perhaps  you 
mean,  Tom,"  and  Frank,  turning  to  Conyng- 
hame,  said  :  "  I  am  glad  you  came,  Col.  Conyng- 
hame.  Tom  here  is  getting  quite  dangerous. 
First  he  laughs  at  you,  then  he  laughs  with 
you,  until  you  do  not  know  whether  you  are 
yourself  or  some  one  else.'.' 

"  And  his  sister  is  the  sister  of  her  brother,  I 
assure  you,  Col.  Conynghame.  I  was  just  im- 
agining myself  the  hero  of  that  Damoclean 
feast  and  fancying  his  feelings." 

"Cousin  Selma  is  studying  out  a  little  garden 
story,  Miss  Bowers,  and  she  wishes  your  and 
your  brother's  opinion  before  she  decides,"  said 
Conynghame,  lifting  his  mental  hat,  with  a  smile 
to  sister  and  brother,  his  faultless  summer  straw 
being  already  in  his  hand  as  he  stood  before 

Frank. 

- 


234  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

The  story  was  made  out  and  coincided  with 
that  of  the  sculptor.  The  count,  having  seen 
much  garden  decoration  in  France,  helped  de- 
cide the  positions  of  the  various  mythological 
groupings ;  and  at  last,  all  satisfactorily  arranged, 
the  sculptor,  who  had  engaged  to  supply  miss- 
ing noses,  fingers,  or  arms,  with  a  composition 
which  would  "  so  closely  resemble  the  old 
marble  that  the  most  practised  eye  could  not 
detect  the  breaks,"  proved  his  assertion  by  re- 
storing then  and  there  to  a  Cupid,  from  the 
models  he  had  previously  made,  a  lost  arm. 

"  Very  fine  !  "  said  the  count  critically. 

"  Be-e-autiful !  "   exclaimed  Pella,  ecstatically. 

"  Quite  equal  to .  Praxiteles'  famous  Cupid, 
over  which  the  world  has  gone  so  wild — al- 
though I  must  confess  to  not  knowing  whether 
I  even  saw  it  when  I  was  in  Rome,  I  saw  so 
many  things,  or  whether  it  is  there  now  or  not. 
It  was  carried  there  from  Greece,  I  believe,  and 
this  Cupid  is  very  possibly  it,"  said  Frank,  de- 
murely. 

"  We  expect  garden  statuary  to  be  good,  as 
this  is,  the  best  of  its  kind,  but  we  do  not  ex- 
pect it  to  equal  classical  statuary,"  said  the 
sculptor,  good-humoredly.  He  spoke  to  Miss 


The  Black  Art.  235 

de  Grey,  but  showed  by  the  smile  that  widened 
his  mouth  and  twinkled  in  his  eyes  that  he 
well  understood  the  remark  of  the  last  young 
lady  who  spoke  was  aimed  exclusively  at  the 
ecstatic  young  lady,  and  not  at  his  work. 

Leaving  the  sculptor  overseeing  his  men,  the 
party  sought  other  parts  of  the  grounds,  and 
Selma,  turning  to  speak  to  Breta,  whom  she 
supposed  quite  near,  saw  her  wandering  of? 
with  her  brother  toward  the  elms  that  shaded 

the  natural  fountain. 

» 

Other  groups  of  two,  Frank  and  Conyng- 
hame,  Tom  Bowers  and  Sadie,  Pella  and  the 
count,  all  strolling  over  the  grounds,  were 
blending  harmoniously  with  the  beautiful  shrub- 
bery. 

Selma,  as  she  went  on  toward  the  house  with 
Mr.  Black  on  one  side  of  her  and  Mr.  Whyte 
on  the  other,  rested  her  eyes  with  fond  com- 
placency on  Breta's  graceful  form,  with  its  pretty 
drooping  shoulders,  as  Breta  walked  with  such 
a  firm,  easy  carriage  beside  her  handsome 
brother. 

"  You  ask  me  to  give  you  some  idea  of  my 
— the  Rosicrucian — philosophy,  Miss  Garnet," 
said  this  handsome  brother  of  Selma's,  looking 


236  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

down  into  Breta's  thoughtful  eyes.  "  One 
writer  says :  '  The  subject  of  Alchemy  was 
man.'  Another  writer  (Eyrenaeus)  says  :  '  Our 
gold  is  not  to  be  bought  for  money,  though  you 
should  offer  a  crown  or  a  kingdom  for  it,  for  it 
is  the  gift  of  God.' " 

"  Then  their  gold — the  philosopher's  stone- 
was  not  gold,  the  sordid  metal,  but — I  see,  Mr. 
de  Grey,"  said  Breta.     "  Uncle  Ray  was  telling 
me  something  of  it  the  other  day." 

"Hosts  of  self-seekers,"  continued  de  Grey, 
smiling  at  Breta's  earnestness,  "  taking  the  sym- 
bolical language  of  the  Hermetic  writers  liter- 
ally (they  were  obliged  to  cover  up  their  true 
meaning  under  symbols,  as  in  those  dark  ages 
religious  tolerance,  or  tolerance  of  any  kind, 
was  unknown)  wasted  years  in  trying  to  find  a 
material  agent  that  would  transmute  the  baser 
metals  into  material  gold.  It  was  these  char- 
latans who  brought.alchemy  and  the  alchemists 
into  such  disrepute.  In  these  days  we  can 
work  for  the  truth  (gold)  openly,  but  we  lack 
the  self-denying  workers  that  those  Rosy-cross- 
men  of  the  Middle  Ages  were,  who  suffered 
privation,  persecution,  and  martyrdom  to  one 
end :  the  furtherance  of  science  and  the 


T/ie  Black  Art.  237 

emancipation  of  man  from  religious  and  politi- 
cal tyranny." 

"  It  is  well  worth  one's  while  to  suffer  and 
work  for  a  great  principle  one's  conscience  ac- 
cepts as  a  great  truth,"  returned  Breta.  "  And 
there  is  more  of  this  done  in  the  present  day 
than  the  workers  have  credit  for.  It  is  all  so 
humdrum— the  present-day  reform  work, — and 
lacks,  too,  the  poetry  of  antiquity  and  martyr- 
dom to  make  it  seem  effective.  I  have  often 
wished  for  an  opportunity  to  make  some  great 
sacrifice  and  lose  my  life  in  it."  And  with  a 
face  softly  flushed  with  generous  enthusiasm, 
Breta  looked  up  to  de  Grey,  asking  : 

"  But  about  your  own  particular  theories,  Mr. 
de  Grey.  How  is  this  beautiful  Hermetic  phil- 
osophy to  aid  you  in  regard  to  the  reputed — the 
occurrences  at  Elmwood,  for  instance  ?  " 

Looking  down  into  the  blue-gray  eyes  that 
were  meeting  his  with  such  a  charming  look  of 
inquiry,  de  Grey  said  : 

"  This  subject  is  so  little  understood — al- 
though some  of  the  profoundest  scientists  and 
thinkers  of  the  age  have  more  or  less  fully  writ- 
ten on  it — but  that  all  who  have  inhabited  this 
world  will,  some  time  in  the  cycles  to  come,  in- 


238  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

habit  it  again, — but  I  see  dissent  in   your  face, 
Miss  Garnet." 

"  Not  dissent  exactly — that  is,  I  do  not  disbe- 
lieve, or  believe.  I  wish  to  know  more.  Do 
you  think  those  sounds  in  that  house  were 
caused  by  actual  unseen  presences  ?  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,  Miss  Garnet ;  I  look 
upon  such  phenomena,"  and  de  Grey  swept 
his  hand  over  toward  the  house  in  question, 
"  as  indications  of  the  existence  of  the  spiritual 
side  of  our  dual  life.  Some  process  not  yet 
understood  (telephonic  perhaps)  will  elucidate 
these  particular  mysteries,  now  so  vague,  so 
misunderstood,  so  dependenfon  mere  chimeri- 
cal theories.  The  time  will  come  when,  through 
some  scientific  conception,  the  cause  of  those 
noises — I  have  never  yet  heard  them — will  be 
made  clear." 

"  I  am  delighted,  Mr.  de  Grey,  that  this  mys- 
terious subject — I  have  never  heard  the  noises 
either — is  no  clearer  to  you  than  it  is  to  me.  I 
see  you  are  in  doubt,  as  I  am,  and  I  stand 
in  much  less  fear  of  you,  and  your  philosophy 
now  is  much  less  awe-inspiring,"  said  Breta, 
with  an  upward  look  and  smile. 

"The    Rosy-cross — magic — has  universally 


The  Black  Art.  239 

been  the  subject  of  awe  ;  so  no  wonder  you 
were  awed  by  me.  But  would  you  like  to  see 
my  laboratory,  Miss  Garnet  ?  " 

"  Where  you  practise  the  Black  art,  Mr.  de 
Grey  ?  "  said  Breta,  significantly. 

"  We  may  as  well  call  it  by  that  name  as  by 
any  other,  for  some  of  my  chemical  experiments 
blacken  my  hands  so  very  black  that, — but  I 
can  show  you  a  number  of  interesting  results  at 
which  I  have  arrived — some  telephonic  experi- 
ments among  others." 

Breta  speaking  quite  enthusiastically  of  her 
interest  in  all  chemical  experiments,  de  Grey 
suggested  that  they  should  go  at  once  up  into 
his  laboratory. 

On  the  way  he  explained  certain  chemical 
changes  by  catalysis,  or  contact-action,  wherein 
the  body  inducing  the  change  in  another  is  it- 
self unaltered.  "  Quite  as  mysterious,  Miss 
Garnet,  as  the  Elmwood  noises,"  continued  he, 
"  only  scientists  are  well  used  to  catalysis.  We 
employ  it  in  many  curious  experiments  ;  al- 
though the  cause  of  its  action,  as  I  said,  is  as 
little  understood  as — " 

"  As  the  mystery  of  our  dual  life  perhaps," 
suggested  Breta. 


240  The  Benefit  of  the  DoubL 

As  they  entered  the  door,  Selma,  seeing  them, 
rejoiced  in  her  heart  at  the  good  understanding 
between  them.  She  wished  for  nothing  so  much 
as  that  their  evident  mutual  regard  might  pro- 
gress to  a  happy  conclusion. 

In  the  evening  they  had  some  fine  music,  and 
Mr.  Whyte  playing  a  violin  accompaniment  to 
Breta's  "  Voglein,  was  singst  im  wald  du  so 
laut?"  left  the  listeners  in  doubt  which  was 
violin,  which  was  voice,  or  which  bird. 

After  singing,  Breta  was  urging  Tom  Bowers 
to  sing,  saying  his  sister  had  told  her  he  had 
a  remarkable  baritone. 

"  Oh,  yes,  Miss  Garnet,"  assented  Tom  ;  "  a 
real  barrel-tone,  a  double-barrelled-tone,  I  as- 
sure you." 

"  Your  Breta,"  said  Mr.  Black  in  a  rumbling 
undertone  to  Selma,  "  would  create  a  perfect 
furor  if  she  were  to  appear  in  public  again, — 
as  she  did  at  Milan.  I  never  heard  any  thing 
like  it  ;  and  her  voice  is  even  finer  now,  more 
matured.  Such  precision  in  alighting  on  tones 
— tones  so  well  sustained, — and  such  a  glottis- 
stroke  !  The  marvel  of  it  is  how  she  has  man- 
aged to  keep  up  her  enthusiasm  and  practice  in 
this  out-of-the-way  place." 


The  Black  Art.  241 

"  My  Breta,  Benjamin,  possesses  the  undenia- 
ble gift  of  song ;  and  love  for  the  divine  art 
has  sustained  her." 

Bowers,  being  excessively  diffident,  as  he 
averred,  upon  Breta's  urging,  could  not  be  in- 
duced to  sing  alone.  Selecting  the  exquisite 
four-voiced  canon  from  Rossini's  Moise,  he 
sang  it  with  her,  Frank,  and  de  Grey.  It  was 
greatly  applauded  ;  and  Black  asking  for  its 
repetition,  and  then  again,  the  electrical  vi- 
bration which  thrills  the  ear  from  perfect  accord 
was  heard  in  its  third  rendering. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  Miss  Garnet,"  exclaimed 
Black.  "  Better  and  better.  I  could  listen  to 
that  all  night." 

•'  Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  thanks  will 
serve,  Mr.  Black,"  returned  Breta.  "  But  just 
think  how  tired  we  should  be  by  morning." 

"  I  always  affirmed,  Joslyn,"  remarked  Black, 
after  duly  acknowledging  Breta's  repartee,  "  that 
you  have  a  tenor  for  purity  of  tone  and  com- 
pass that  's  a  perfect  marvel.  There  is  no 
pleasure,  after  all,  equal  to  hearing  a  master- 
piece well  rendered." 

Conynghame  looked  his  enjoyment  with  his 
fine  eyes,  but  said  nothing,  while  the  count 


242  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

pronounced  the  music  "  charming,"    and  Pella 
declared  it  was  "be-e-autiful !  " 

Mr.  Whyte  and  de  Grey  gave  some  sonatas 
of  Mozart's  with  violin  and  cello,  and  ten  o'clock 
coming,  the  young  ladies  were  conveyed  back 
to  the  school. 


XV. 

OPERAS    WILL    BE    LOVELY. 

SELMA  found  it  easy  on  the  resuscitation 
of  Elmwood  to  engage  permanently  the 
servants  she  had  employed  from  the  village  by 
the  day  while  the  place  was  in  its  ghost-invit- 
ing condition.  And  having  conceived  a  project, 
that  would  make  it  perfectly  delightful  at  Elm- 
wood,  she  said,  and  would  include  the  getting 
up  some  pleasant  musical  entertainments,  she 
set  to  work  in  earnest,  with  Joslyn's  and  Ralph's 
assistance,  to  procure  a  large  staff  of  well- 
trained  servants  from  the  city  as  a  preparatory 
step. 

"  Breta  has  already  promised  me  a  long  visit, 
this  summer,  and  I  shall  prevail  upon  her  friends 
also  to  come  as  soon  as  school  closes.  And," 
continued  she,  growing  more  enthusiastic,  "  I 
shall  prevail  on  Mr.  Bowers  and — 

"  Should  we  be  so  unfortunate,  Selma,  as  to 
243 


244  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

have  another  war,"  observed  Conynghame, 
"  you  would  rise  in  this  progressive  age  in  no 
time  ;  that  is,  should  you  see  fit  to  enlist.  Such 
an  able  tactician  as  you  have  proved  yourself 
is  rare." 

"  Yes,"  assented  de  Grey,  "  you  and  I,  Ralph, 
are  only  lookers  on  in  Elmwood,  during  all 
these  revolutions, — subject  merely  to  orders. 
But  Selma  was  always  wonderful  at  planning, 
and  always  for  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 
number." 

"  Count  me  also  as  one  of  your  aids,  subject 
to  orders,  Miss  de  Grey,"  added  Bowers  ;  "  I 
likewise  have  always  been  too  famous  at  doing 
the  heavy  looking  on." 

"  With  three  such  co-operators,"  said  Selma, 
smiling,  "  what  may  we  not  achieve  ?  I  am 
now  going  to  Miss  Rutherford's  to  invite  Miss 
Bowers,  Miss  Burrill,  and  Miss  Morton — Miss 
Garnet  having  already  promised  me — and  would 
like  the  company  of  one  of  you  gentlemen  ; 
more  than  one  would  be  entirely  too  formid- 
able." 

"  We  shall  have  to  draw  lots,"  suggested 
Bowers  ;  and  the  lot  falling  to  Ralph,  Tom  said 
he  was  a  lucky  dog,  and  that  he  and  de  Grey 


Operas  will  be  Lovely.  246 

would  have  to  console  themselves  with  a  game 
of  billiards. 

Selma  and  Conynghame  found  the  young 
ladies  just  through  "  tea,"  and  delighted  with  the 
unfolded  plan. 

"  I  am  expecting  my  mother  to  be  with  us, 
Miss  Rutherford  ;  and  our  gentlemen  friends 
have  consented  to  spend  more  or  less  of  the 
summer  at  Elmwood,"  added  Selma,  "  and  we 
intend  having  the  great  picture-gallery  convert- 
ed into  an  opera-house  (at  least  so  I  call  it) 
with  stage  and  movable  scenery.  And  when 
we  are  sufficiently  well  practised  up  in  scenes 
from  operas,  we  will  have  all  our  friends  in- 
vited to  listen  to  us  ;  and  we  can  make  it  both 
pleasant  and  instructive  for  all." 

"  I  shall  of  course  first  write  to  mamma.  Miss 
de  Grey,  but  only  for  form's  sake,"  said  Frank, 
upon  being  appealed  to,  "  for  mamma  not  only 
gives  me  my  own  way,  but  insists  on  my  taking 
it." 

"  I  also  possess  a  model  mother  of  the  same 
type,  Miss  Bowers,"  remarked  Ralph. 

"  I  have  no  one  to  ask,"  acknowledged  Pella. 
"  I  was  intending  to  spend  the  summer  with  my 
aunt,  who  always  goes  to  Saratoga  ;  but  I  am 


246  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

excessively  tired  of  Saratoga,  and  would  greatly 
prefer  Elmwood — with  many  thanks,  Miss  de 
Grey." 

Sadie  Burrill's  father  (who  was  an  extensive 
ship-owner,  and  was  in  Havre)  had  left  her  in 
the  care  of  Miss  Rutherford  (Sadie  having  no 
mother),  and  Miss  Rutherford  signified  her  ap- 
proval, being  delighted  that  Miss  de  Grey  had 
such  a  pleasant  prospect  in  store  for  her.  "  The 
school  closes  on  the  i5th  of  July — close  at  hand 
— for  the  vacation.  The  young  ladies  will  then  be 
free,  Miss  de  Grey,"  said  she. 

"  Do  you  know,  Colonel  Conynghame,"  ob- 
served Frank,  demurely,  "  I  think  it  is  very  kind 
in  Miss  de  Grey  to  burden  herself  with  so  many 
giddy  girls." 

"  Undoubtedly,  Miss  Bowers,"  replied  Ralph, 
with  mischievous  politeness,  "  but  you  will  find 
Cousin  Selma  not  only  equal  to  the  trying  or- 
deal, but  hugely  enjoying  it." 

"  No  one  need  be  acquainted  with  Selma 
long  to  know  that  her  greatest  pleasure  lies  in 
self-sacrifice,"  observed  Breta,  with  a  bright 
smile.  "  And  the  more  trouble  we  give  her  the 
better  she  will  like  us  and  it." 

"  The  self-sacrifice  manifested  chiefly  in  being 


Operas  will  be  Lovely.  247 

able  to  listen  unruffled  to  jocose  adulations, 
Breta,"  returned  Selma  in  her  pleasant  way,  as 
she  rose  to  go. 

After  she  and  Ralph  had  driven  off  there  was 
a  discussion  out  on  the  veranda  among  those 
invited.  Breta  had  just  been  saying  she  re- 
called distinctly  having  seen  Colonel  Conyng- 
hame  with  Mr.  de  Grey  at  the  opera,  in  Paris, 
over  four  years  ago. 

"  Both  faces  once  seen  never  to  be  forgot- 
ten," declared  Frank.  "  But  where  was  your 
not-to-be-forgotten  face  that  they  have  not  re- 
called— " 

"I  was  sitting  with  Uncle  Ray  far  back  in  a 
proscenium  box,  seeing  but  not  seen,  and  they 
were  in  the  orchestra  seats.  The  opera  was 
Don  Giovanni" 

"  Life  is  full  ot  such  curious  coincidences," 
remarked  Sadie  Burrill.  "  Papa  met  Frank's 
brother  in  Constantinople  and  became  well  ac- 
quainted with  him.  I  wrote  papa  all  about  the 
picnic  (I  keep  him  regularly  posted  on  all  that 
passes),  and  I  have  just  had  a  letter  from  him 
acknowledging  Mr.  Bowers'  acquaintance.  I 
shall  now  inform  him  of  Miss  de  Grey's  kind 
invitation.  He  writes  me  that  he  already 


248  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

knows  her  from  my  description  of  her  refined 
and— 

"  Oh,  you  and  your  letters  to  your  father," 
snapped  Pella.  "  He  should  get  them  pub- 
lished in  thirteen  volumes,  that  no  one  would 
ever  read.  Of  course  you  descant  largely  on 
the  perfections  of  this  black-eyed  Mr.  Bowers, 
and  it  is  so  nice  that  they  are  already  friends." 

"  As  you  say,  Pella,"  returned  Sadie,  meet- 
ing her  malicious  pleasantry  entirely  undis- 
turbed. 

Frank  laughed. 

"  Whatever  any  one  else  does,  I  shall  go  to 
Elmwood,"  squealed  Pella,  with  high-voiced 
decision,  throwing  a  spiteful  glance  at  Frank, 
"  on  the  day  school  closes.  And  as  for  dresses, 
I  have  a  trunk  full  of  new  ones,  most  of  which 
arre  Worth's,  that  brother  Oscar  has  just  sent 
me  from  Paris.  But  why  Miss  de  Grey  did 
not  decide  on  charades  and  tableaux  instead 
of—" 

"Bother  charades  and  tableaux!"  broke  in 
Frank.  "They  are  as  old  as  the  hills.  Operas 
will  be  lovely." 

"  Oh,  you  expect  to  show  your  voice  off. 
But  I  can't  sing  loud,  showy  things  ;  my  voice 


Operas  will  be  Lovely.  249 

is  too  delicate  in  tone  to  be  heard  to  advantage 
in  juxtaposition  with  your  really — if  I  must  say 
it — blatant  tones,"  returned  Pella. 

"  If  you  can't  sing,  Pella,  you  can  get  up  the 
tallest  growl  on  the  shortest  notice  of  any  one  I 
know.  A  nice  time  Count  Gueret  will  have 
when  he  gets  you." 

"Count  Gueret!  A  man  old  enough  to  be 
my  father !  You  do  not  imagine,  Frank,  that 
Count  Gueret  will  ever  get  me,  as  you  elegantly 
express  it,"  and  Miss  Morton  turned  up  her 
Greek  nose  quite  high. 

"  My  imagination  is  very  vivid,  Pella,  and  it 
makes  me  smole  to  see  you  after  de  Grey  so — 
with  a  sharp  stick — and  know  you  won't  get 
him.  I  imagine  also  we  shall  have  an  awful  jolly 
time  at  Elmwood  this  summer,"  and  Frank 
hummed  Tutto  I  gioja. 

" '  Smole  ' !  '  after  de  Grey ' !  '  sharp  stick  ' ! 
'  awful  jolly  ' !  "  sneered  Pella. 

Breta  laughed,  and  her  mood  becoming  con- 
tagious, they  all  laughed  in  unison,  and  so 
heartily  that  Pella,  joining  in,  quite  thawed 
out,  especially  as  Breta  assured  her  that  parts 
she  could  sing  should  be  selected  for  her,  as  her 
voice  was  really  very  pretty  and  true. 


25o  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

The  girls  went  to  the  class-rooms  for  their 
books  to  study  their  lessons,  and  Breta  to  pre- 
pare for  an  engagement  to  drive  with  de  Grey. 
Frank,  passing  through  the  silent  music-room, 
sang  out  in  full  voice  :  "  Quis  est  homo  qui  non 
fieret  Christi  matrem  si  videret — " 

"  Miss  Bowers,  you  improve  daily,"  said  Miss 
Rutherford,  as  she  entered  the  room.  "  And  if 
you  could  continue  with  Miss  Garnet — " 

"  I  shall  be  with  her  all  summer,  Miss  Ruth- 
erford, and  as  much  longer  as — well,  I  fully  in- 
tend being  with  her  always." 

Miss  Rutherford,  with  a  dignified  smile,  re- 
marked that  Miss  de  Grey's  guests  would  un- 
doubtedly have  a  delightful  summer,  and  that 
Mrs.  de  Grey  being  with  her,  would  make  it 
more  decorous  of  course, — pleasanter  for  all. 

That  the  practising  for  the  operatic  scenes 
might  progress,  and  that  Selma  and  her  brother 
might  have  the  multiplicity  of  counsel  in  which 
there  is  safety  to  help  plan  the  little  bijou  of  a 
stage,  the  four  young  ladies  continued  to  spend 
their  Saturdays  and  whatever  other  time  they 
could  get  at  Elmwood,  the  gentlemen  all  re- 
maining to  assist,  as  they  averred. 

The    immense  picture-gallery,  in   which  the 


Operas  will  be  Lovely. 

miniature  theatre,  with  its  seats  for  five  hun- 
dred raised  in  tiers  and  its  pretty  stage,  was 
constructed,  adjoined  an  oak-panelled  dining- 
room  that  would  accommodate  tables  for  as 
many  hundred  persons,  on  such  a  grand  scale 
had  the  mansion  at  Elmwood  been  built 
throughout.  And  when  the  carpenters  were 
through  their  work,  and  the  artist  had  painted 
and  adjusted  the  shifting  scenery,  and  the 
exquisite  little  drop-curtain  was  hung,  and 
the  chandeliers  and  foot-lights  arranged,  Black 
pronounced  it  as  perfect  a  conception  of  the 
kind,  well  carried  out,  as  he  had  ever  seen. 

"  It  is  very  charming,"  said  the  count. 
"  Monseigneur  the  Marquis  d'Alby  has  one 
very  similar  at  his  chateau,  in  which  he  has 
private  theatricals  enacted.  I  have  assisted  in 
them  at  various  times." 

"  It  is  perfectly  be-e-autiful,"  ejaculated 
Pella,  endorsing  both  Selma's  and  d'Alby's 
private  theatre. 

"  I  hope  Monseigneur  the  Marquis  d'Alby 
enjoys  his  theatre  as  much  as  we  shall  ours, 
and  with  you  to  assist  us,  Count  Gueret,  neces- 
sarily must,"  rejoined  Frank,  in  a  half-mocking 
way,  in  French. 


252  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Breta,  who  had  been  placing  some  crimson 
camelias  in  Frank's  dark  hair,  saw  that  the  count 
took  the  saucy  remark  as  complimentary,  and 
that  he  was  flattered  by  it. 

"  Cela  va  sans  dire,"  said  he,  with  his  dry, 
bilious  laugh,  accompanied  by  a  slight  shrug  of 
his  shoulders  and  wave  of  his  right  hand. 


XVI. 

THREE     KISSES. 

IT  was  the  afternoon  before  school  closed. 
Breta  was  in  the  music-room  devoted  to 
singing  and  considered  as  especially  hers.  She 
was  overlooking  Miss  Rutherford's  man-of-all- 
work  pile  music-books  and  loose  music  in  a 
box. 

"  I  was  told  I  should  find  you  here,  my 
dear,"  said  Mr.  Whyte,  entering  the  room. 

"  Yes,  it  is  simply  dreadful  to  have  to  own 
so  much  music  when  the  time  comes  to  go 
away,"  returned  Breta,  who  was  down  on  her 
knees  before  the  box,  and  she  looked  up  at  her 
uncle  with  a  loving  smile. 

"Thank  you,  Edward,  that  pile  is  the  last," 
continued  she,  rising  and  turning  to  the  man  in 
her  gentle,  graceful  way. 

"  It  was  as  much  as  ever,  miss,"  said  the 
man,  shutting  down  the  lid  and  turning  the 

253 


254  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

key.  "  This  trunk  would  not  hold  another 
note,"  and  he  fastened  the  straps.  "  Any  thing 
more,  Miss  Garnet?  " 

"  Nothing  more,  Edward,  at  present.  Be 
sure  and  tell  Katie  that  I  shall  see  her  before  I 
leave." 

"  That  man  esteems  it  a  great  privilege  to 
wait  on  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Whyte,  seat- 
ing himself  as  Edward  bowed  and  withdrew. 

"  I  called  on  his  wife,  Katie,  several  times 
when  she  was  ill.  I  could  not  do  much  for  her ; 
but  Edward  has  always  made  much  of  it.  I  am 
godmother  to  his  little  girl,  you  know,  who  is 
named  for  me." 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  rejoined  Mr.  Whyte, 
with  one  of  his  twisted  smiles.  "  My  dear,  I 
have  something  to  say  to  you,"  added  he. 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Ray." 

"  But  perhaps  you  won't  like  it." 

"  I  never  disliked  any  thing  you  ever  said  to 
me  yet,"  asserted  Breta,  laughing,  as  she  stood 
beside  her  uncle,  passing  her  fingers  caressingly 
through  his  hair. 

"  Noel  has  been  talking  to  me  ;  he  will  be 
here  within  an  hour  to  see  you.  It  is  about 
him  I  wish  to  speak,  my  dear." 


Three  Kisses.  255 

"  I  cannot  say  I  like  the  thought  of  talk- 
ing about  him,  or  of  his  coming  to  see  me  ;  he 
has  been  the  cause  of  much  discomfort  to  me 
of  late,"  said  Breta,  growing  very  serious  and 
seating  herself  beside  her  uncle. 

"  My  dear,  I  have  seen  it,  as  you  say,  of  late 
especially.  Of  late  his  conversation  to  me  is 
entirely  about  you.  He  is  very  much  in  earnest 
—though  the  word  earnest  scarcely  applies  to 
Noel.  He  is  full,  with  all  the  avoirdupois  he 
carries,  of  the  expectation  that  he  will  eventu- 
ally win  you.  He  has  not  asked  me  in  so 
many  words  to  use  my  influence  with  you, 
he  seems  so  confident  of  his  own  power  over 
you." 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Ray  ;  please  proceed." 

"  My  dear,  I  have  seen  so  much  wedded 
misery — my  favorite  brother,  for  one,  was  a 
victim  to  it ;  the  serpent  and  the  dove  not  be- 
ing well  mixed  in  his  case — he  having  all  the 
dove  and  she  all  the  venom  and  cunning  of  the 
serpent ;  and — she  stung  him  to  death." 

"  That  was  my  Uncle  George.  I  remember 
him  well,  and  I  remember  her  too.  They  took 
me  to  an  exposition  in  Paris  when  I  was  eight 
years  old,  you  may  remember,  and  I  was  look- 


256  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ing  with  wondering-  admiration  at  some  beauti- 
ful wax  dolls,  not  for  sale.  She  said  two  words, 
'  sour  grapes,'  but  I  shall  never  forget  the  way 
she  said  them." 

"  Nothing  can  be  better  than  '  sour  grapes ' 
to  point  my  moral,"  suggested  Mr.  White,  with 
one  of  the  most  twisted  of  his  twisted  smiles. 
"You  have  only  to  keep  so  high  up  out  of 
Noel's  reach  that  he  can  never  grasp  you." 
•  Breta  looked  up  at  her  uncle  with  an  intent, 
questioning  glance,  a  vague  smile  crossing  her 
face. 

"  You  have  a  great  deal  of  affection  for  Noel, 
my  dear,  have  you  not ;  he  is  so  a  part  of  your 
bright  childhood  days  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  question  he  himself  asked  me  a  short 
time  ago,  and  I  answered  yes.  But  he  well  un- 
derstood me." 

"  That  you  have  no  warmer  feeling  for  him  ?  " 

"  He  has  known  that  since  that  night  in  Milan 
when — he  went  to  Paris  to  get  you  out  of  that 
vile  prison." 

"And  you  were  in  such  a  hurry  to  pay  him 
back  the  twenty  thousand  piastres  as  soon  as 
we  returned  to  Milan.  I  had  to  laugh  to  see 
how  determined  you  were  that  hefshould  take 


Three  Kisses,  25/ 

them  ;  not  but  that  you  were  right,  my  dear, 
for  you  were  quite  right.  Being  indebted  to 
Noel  was  harder  to  me  than  the  Clichy — why,  I 
cannot  tell." 

"  Perhaps  you  intuitively  felt  the  indignity  of 
the  conditions,"  said  Breta,  her  face  flushing  at 
the  recollection. 

Little  Mr.  Whyte  turned  his  fresh  boyish  face 
toward  Breta,  his  open,  candid  eyes  regarding 
her  fixedly  for  a  moment. 

"  That,  my  dear, — -Noel's  total  lack  of  that  last 
fine  sense  or  instinct  that  comes  with  the  sym- 
pathetic organization,  is  the  key-note  of  all  I 
wish  to  say.  He  knows  you  are  of  the  simpat- 
ica  and  builds  on  that.  He  loves  you  with  an 
overmastering  passion,  the  outgrowth  of  his 
overmastering  passion  for  himself.  He  is 
clever,  wonderfully  clever,  and  withal  good- 
humored,  a  bon/wmme,  and  entirely  unscrupu- 
lous where  you  are  concerned.  Knowing  you 
to  be  tender-hearted  he  will  stoop  to  work  on 
your  feelings,  and  make  you  believe  he  will  die 
if  he  does  not  get  you.  But  he  won't  die.  His 
love  for  himself  will  prevent  his  dying  for  any 
one  ;  a  good  tough  fibre  pervades  him  men- 
tally as  well  as  physically.  But,  lacking  that 


258  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

delicate  perception  of  what  belongs  to  others, 
he  will  utterly  ignore  the  understanding  you 
speak  of — of  your  feelings  toward  him,  and 
will,  as  I  have  said,  coerce  you  to  his  views,  if 
he  can  ;  and  in  the  end — but  never  mind  the 
end  ;  that  is  that  end.  The  only  way  to  save 
yourself,  Breta,  will  be  to  come  to  a  final  issue 
with  him,  painful  as  it  will  be  for  you.  There,  I 
have  done  !  "  And  Mr.  Whyte  got  up  from  his 
chair,  walked  over  toward  the  window,  and  look- 
ed out  on  Miss  Rutherford's  thrifty  grape-vines. 

Breta  also  rose,  walked  thoughtfully  across 
the  floor  and  back,  and  fetching  up  beside  her 
uncle,  she  contemplated  with  him  the  massive 
clusters  of  grapes  still  green. 

"  Uncle  Ray,"  said  she,  brokenly,  her  eyes 
full  of  a  deep,  pathetic  seriousness,  "  I  know  it 
- — I  have  known  it  ;  it  is  all  true.  It  would  be 
simply  horrible !  But  do  not  fear.  He  could 
never  prevail  on  me — never.  Self-sacrifice  in 
that  way — marrying  without  love,  the  most 
perfect  love — would  be  to  me  an  utter  impossi- 
bility. I  could  give  my  life  to  save  another  life 
without  a  thought — 

"  As  I  have  intimated,  my  dear,  you  are  es- 
sentially of  the  martyr  stock." 


Three  Kisses.  259 

"  Yes,  Uncle  Ray,  you  are  right.  I  shall 
have  to  break  with  him  at  once.  I  have  so 
dreaded  it.  I  have  so  trusted  to  his  sense  of 
honor  to  consider  our  relations  friendly  only, 
that  of  cousins,  that  of  sister  and  brother.  Oh, 
he  knows  so  well— 

Breta  was  interrupted  by  a  sudden  rushing 
sound,  and  Frank,  with  the  impetuosity  of  a 
southern  gust,  burst  into  the  room. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon  !  "  exclaimed  she,  seeing 
Mr.  Whyte.  "  I  thought  you  were  all  alone, 
Breta."  And  she  was  leaving  the  room  as  hur- 
riedly as  she  had  entered,  when  Mr.  Whyte 
called  to  her  : 

"  Stay,  Miss  Frank,  it  is  I  who  am  going," 
and  stooping  to  kiss  his  niece  where  she  still 
stood  by  the  window  (he  had  only  a  couple  of 
inches  to  stoop,  his  height  being  so  little  more 
than  hers),  he  took  his  leave. 

"  Breta!  "  exclaimed  Frank,  "he — Noel  Dun- 
raven — is  down  in  the  drawing-room  ;  has  just 
come  He  is  paying  his  respects  to  Miss  Ruth- 
erford ;  that  is  his  little  game — always  has 
been.  Now  mark  my  words,  he  has  come  (I 
scent  it  in  the  air  as  the  ghost  of  Hamlet's 
daddy  did  the  dawn)  to  bring  you  to  the 


260  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

scratch.  Now  if  you  marry  him  it  will  be  the 
scratch — the  very  old  scratch — " 

"  Frank,"  interrupted  Breta,  in  all  her  per- 
plexity laughing  at  Frank's  vehemence,  "  you 
are  wild ;  you  are  at  your  worst,  your  very 
worst.  Is  it  the  full  of  the  moon  ?  " 

"  Never  mind  the  moon,"  returned  Frank 
energetically  ;  "  the  moon  is  gibbous,  I  am  cer- 
tain, and  I  've  only  a  moment  before  you  '11  be 
sent  for.  Now,  listen  :  Noel  Dunraven  is  as 
wily  as  a  great,  gigantic,  aesthetic  fox.  He  's 
dead  in  love  with  you — as  who  is  n't  ?  But  you 
can't  marry  them  all  ;  and  you  sha'n't  marry 
him.  He  will  talk  to  you  in  Italian,  like  a  Dutch 
uncle.  He  will  poetically  and  aesthetically  and 
pathetically  bring  up  all  your  old  Italian  life, 
and  then  make  you  believe  that  he  will  drop 
dead  at  your  feet  if  you  don't  marry  him.  He 
will  work  on  your  sympathies  until  you  will  feel 
the  only  thing  left  to  do  is  to  make  a  holy  mar- 
tyr of  yourself  and  marry  a  great,  selfish,  aes- 
thetic baby  that  cries  for  the  moon." 

"  Frank,  if  you  will  only  stop  I  will  promise 
you  never  to  marry  any  one." 

"  But  you  must  ;  you  must  marry— 

"  Spare  me  now,"  urged  Breta,  laughing,  "  and 


Three  Kisses.  261 

I  promise  to  marry  any  one  you  pick  out.  Will 
that  suit  you  ?  " 

"  There  !  Here  comes  Miss  Rutherford  ;  I 
hear  her  stately  step,"  exclaimed  Frank.  "  I 
will  vacate  the  audience-chamber  in  favor  of  the 
latest  comer,"  added  she  as  that  lady  entered 
the  room.  "  And,  Breta,  remember,  if  you  do 
not  keep  the  vow  you  just  made  me  I  shall  haunt 
you,"  and  Frank  threw  her  arms  around  Breta 
and  kissed  her  fervently. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Garnet,"  said  Miss  Ruther- 
ford as  Frank  hastened  off,  "  Mr.  Dunraven  is 
in  the  drawing-room  and  wishes  to  see  you. 
He  has  asked  me  to  intercede  with  you  in  his 
behalf." 

"  He  has  asked  you  to—  "  Breta  added  no 
more. 

"  He  is  very  much  attached  to  you.  I  con- 
sider him  an  uncommonly  fine  young  man.  He 
is  very  talented — quite  gifted,  in  fact.  And  he  is 
remarkably  fine-looking.  Any  woman  might 
well  be  proud  of  him,  as  I  have  before  said." 

"  He  is  all  you  say,  Miss  Rutherford,  but  he 
knows  well  I  shall  never  marry  him." 

"  Do  not  decide  rashly,  my  dear  Breta ;  I  may 
not  be  an  able  judge,  but  as  I  see  him,  he  would 


262  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

be  in  all  respects  a  most  desirable  choice,  and 
with  all  his  other  advantages  of  mind  and  per- 
son he  possesses  wealth." 

"  Yes,  Noel  has  money." 

"  It  will  be  a  very  bitter  disappointment  to 
him  should  you  refuse  him,  my  dear  Miss  Gar- 
net, for  he  is  very  ardently  attached  to  you. 
But  go,  my  dear.  It  is  a  point  for  you  to  de- 
cide with  him  ;  and  may  you  be  guided  aright," 
and  Miss  Rutherford  put  her  arm  around  Breta 
tenderly  and  kissed  her  on  her  smooth  round 
cheek. 

Taking  her  three  kisses  with  her — her  uncle's 
Frank's,  and  Miss  Rutherford's — to  fortify  her- 
self against  the  threatened  attack,  Breta  sought 
the  drawing-room,  and  found  herself  in  Dunra- 
ven's  presence. 

She  felt  herself  terribly  at  disadvantage  with 
him  during  the  first  part  of  their  interview  ;  he 
being  cool  and  wary,  saying  only  what  he  knew 
would  interest  and  please  her.  He  regarded 
her  with  a  watchful  look  when  he  spoke  or  when 
she  replied,  and  throughout  their  whole  inter- 
view the  watchful  look  never  once  left  his  eyes. 

"  You  have  treated  me  so  coldly,  so  cruelly 
of  late,  Breta  mia"  at  length  said  he,  quite  ab- 


Three  Kisses.  263 

ruptly  (it  was  always  in  Italian  they  spoke  when 
together),  that  I  asked  Miss  Rutherford  to — I 
hope  she  represented  to  you  what  an  uncom- 
monly fine  personage  I  am,  take  me  all  in  all 
(she  thinks  so),  and  how  devoted  this  fine  per- 
sonage is  to  you,  carissima"  Although  he 
spoke  lightly  and  laughingly  he  weighed  each 
word  he  said. 

"  It  was  scarcely  necessary  to  bring  a  third 
person  in,  Noel." 

"  You  are  right,  Breta  mia"  uttered  he,  wil- 
fully misinterpreting  her  words.  "  We  need 
only  ourselves  for  a  perfect  understanding  of 

the  harmony   between  us,  so  precious  to  me, 

» 
so — 

"  Noel,  this  must  come  to  an  end,"  said  Breta, 
in  a  quiet  voice,  meeting  his  impassioned  look 
with  her  calm  eyes  full  upon  him,  while  a  little 
sigh  escaped  her.  "  You  know  my  meaning. 
Do  not  force  me  to  be  more  explicit.  All  this 
is  very  painful  to  me." 

"  And  have  you  considered  my  pain?  Breta, 
I  must  speak,  and  you  must  hear  me.  The  time 
has  gone  by  for —  Breta,  I  have  always  looked 
forward  to  the  time  v/hen  I  could—  Breta,  you 
hold  my  life  in  your  hands.  In  all  these  years 


264  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

that  I  have  loved  you,  and  you  alone,  I  have 
lived  only  in  the  hope,  the  certainty,  that  in  the 
end  you  would  be  mine.  I  can  wait  no  longer ; 
my  peace  of  mind  has  gone  utterly.  This  sus- 
pense is  killing  me.  I  must  have  an  answer 
now,  at  once,  to  my  suit,  and  it  must  be  yes." 

Breta  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then,  looking 
up  into  his  face,  her  eyes  cold  and  clear,  she  said 
in  a  steady  voice,  with  something  of  contempt 
in  its  tone  : 

"  As  you  say,  the  time  has  gone  by  for  any 
more  of  this  indecision.  If  we  cannot  be 
friends,  simply,  we  must  be  nothing.  For  the 
sake  of  the  years  gone  by  when  we  were  such 
good  friends  I  have  tried  to  love  you — with 
what  success  you  yourself  know.  That  is  my 
answer  ;  I  do  not  love  you,  I  will  never  be  your 
wife.  And  if  you  would  leave  me  with  any  re- 
spect for  you,  you  will  let  this  drop  forever 
thus."  And  Breta  rose  to  leave  the  room. 

Dunraven  rose  also,  and  taking  one  stride 
toward  her,  he  grasped  her  wrist  in  his  hand 
almost  fiercely. 

"  Breta,"  exclaimed  he,  in  a  thick,  choked 
voice,  his  eyes,  as  he  looked  into  her  face,  dense 
with  a  smouldering  fire,  "  I  had  rather  see  you 


Three  Kisses.  265 

die  in  my  arms  the  moment  after  I  had  led 
you  to  the  altar,  knowing  you  mine,  my  own, 
than  see  you  live  the  wife  of  another  man  ! " 

Breta  gave  a  start  when  he  clutched  her 
wrist,  but  made  no  effort  to  release  herself  from 
his  grasp.  She  stood  intently  regarding  him, 
every  vestige  of  color  having  left  her  face. 

"  Speak  !  Breta,  carissima,  will  you  be  mine  ? 
Come,  my  tragic  muse,  my  casta  diva,  you 
have  played  me  long  enough  ;  you  have  fairly 
landed  me  at  your  feet.  Say  the  word  that  will 
make  of  me  the  happiest  man  living." 

For  reply  Breta  stood  immovable,  her  eyes, 
full  of  an  impenetrable  light,  still  fastened  upon 
his  face,  her  face  blanched  to  the  hue  of  marble. 

"  So,"  said  he,  regarding  her,  "  I  have,  it 
seems,  reversed  the  fable  of  Pygmalion.  I  have 
turned  my  warm,  living,  breathing  Galatea  to 
cold,  white  stone." 

"  Good  God !  How  deadly  beautiful  you 
are ! "  exclaimed  he,  releasing  her  arm,  as 
if  compelled  to  by  the  magnetic  fixedness  of 
her  look. 

Never  for  a  moment  taking  her  eyes  from 
his  face,  Breta,  freed  from  his  grasp,  partly 
turned  and  moved  toward  the  door.  But  he 


266  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

was  there  before  her,  and  stood,  his  back  against 
it,  barring  her  egress. 

"  Not  until  you  have  answered  my  ques- 
tion, bellissima"  said  he,  in  the' lightest  of  his 
airy  tones. 

Breta  stood  silent  and  fixedly  regarding  him. 

"  Then,  if  you  wont  speak,  if  you  will  stand 
there  like  a  divine  statue,  not  until  you  have  paid 
toll.  Have  you  not  one  poor  little  kiss  for  your 
poor  old  friend  who  loves  you  so  well  ?  "  And  he 
made  a  movement  as  though  about  to  take  her 
in  his  arms,  but  he  did  not  touch  her.  Then, 
changing  his  tone,  he  said  :  "  I  am  going  away, 
I  am  going  to  leave  you,  Breta,  without  even 
the  benefit  of  a  doubt  to  cheer  me,"  and  he 
laughed,  but  it  was  a  lame  attempt  at  a  laugh. 

"  Breta,"  said  he  at  last,  "  you  freeze  me  ; 
you  turn  me  to  stone  with  yourself;  you  are  the 
Medusa — beautiful  past  all  beauty — petrifying 
all  who  behold  you.  You — you  wrench  my 
heart — 1  can  no  more  ;  "  and  raising  his  hand 
suddenly  to  his  face,  he  bowed  his  head  upon  it, 
supporting  himself  against  the  door. 

"  You  are  greater  than  I,  Breta — greater  by 
miles,"  and  lifting  his  head  as  he  spoke,  he  re- 
vealed his  eyes  suffused  with  tears.  "  You 


Three  Kisses. 


267 


have  conquered  and  I  submit."  He  spoke  in 
a  changed,  broken  voice,  and  staggering  rather 
than  walking  to  an  arm-chair  near,  threw  him- 
self into  it,  burying  his  head  in  both  hands. 

Breta,  her  eyes  still  upon  him,  opened  the 
door,  and  passing  out  shut  it  upon  herself. 
Then  speeding  with  swift  steps,  as  though  she 
had  escaped  from  the  jaws  of  some  fierce  deni- 
zen of  the  forest,  she  reached  her  chamber  un- 
seen, entered  it,  bolted  herself  within,  and  sank 
upon  the  floor  devoid  of  all  consciousness. 


XVII. 

"so!" 

IT  was  full  two  hours  before  Breta  came  to 
herself.  She  arose  to  her  feet,  bathed  her 
face,  and  arranged  her  hair ;  her  watch  telling 
her  it  was  but  five  minutes  to  the  hour  she  had 
promised  de  Grey  to  drive  with  him.  She  was 
putting  on  her  hat,  when  the  waiting-girl  tapped 
at  her  door  with  de  Grey's  card. 

"  Oh,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "  you  look  puffecly 
ghastly !  Sha'n't  I  get  you  something,  Miss 
Breta  ?  And  here  Mr.  de  Grey  has  come  in  his 
lovely  two-horse  phaeton." 

"  Nothing,  Katy  ;  it  will  all  pass  off.  Has — 
Mr.  Dunraven  gone  ?  " 

"  Long  ago,  Miss  Breta.  And  he  looked 
sublime  as  he  rode  off.  Miss  Rutherford  and 
he  had  a  long  talk  just  before  he  went.  But 
you  have  n't  had  a  mite  of  supper  ;  they  're  at 
tea  now." 

268 


"&/"  269 

Asking  the  girl  to  bring  her  a  glass  of  iced- 
water  only,  at  the  front  door,  Breta  took  the 
wrap  she  handed  her,  and  went  down. 

As  de  Grey  helped  her  into  the  phaeton,  her 
blanched  face  and  the  strained  look  of  calmness 
in  her  eyes  gave  him  a  great  shock  ;  but  he 
made  no  remark  concerning  her  appearance, 
and  seeing  the  color  gradually  return  to  her 
face,  and  the  pained  look  in  her  eyes  give  way 
to  one  of  perfect  content  after  they  had  driven 
on  some  distance,  he  became  less  anxious,  and 
devoured  her  smiles  as  though  each  one  was 
a  priceless  treasure  to  him.  And,  although 
their  conversation  was  desultory  and  inconse- 
quent, nothing  that  Breta  could  have  recalled,  it 
was,  nevertheless,  very  precious  and  restful  to 
her. 

They  had  arrived  to  where  an  abrupt  descent 
at  the  right  of  the  road  revealed  the  broad  ex- 
panse of  valley  bounded  by  the  blending  of  the 
horizon  with  the  far-distant  mountains,  that 
could  be  seen  from  the  elm-shaded  knoll  at 
Elmwood  as  well. 

"  Let  us  pause  here  for  a  little,"  urged  Breta. 
"  This  spot  is  so  deliciously  cool  and  shady  ;  and 
one  never  wearies  of  that  view.  Do  you  know, 


270  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Mr.  de  Grey,  that  to  look  across  that  seventy 
miles  of  enchanted  valley  to  those  misty  moun- 
tains beyond,  always  makes  me  feel  as  though 
I  was  penetrating  through  the  away-back  heart 
of  some  human  being — though  I  am  afraid  I  am 
not  an  adept  at  reading  character." 

"  Ulysses  is,  Miss  Garnet ;  you  can  always  re- 
iy  on  his  judgments." 

Ulysses,  when  the  phaeton  stopped,  had  come 
around  to  Breta's  side,  and  planting  his  fore- 
paws  on  the  floor  of  the  phaeton,  was  content- 
edly resting  his  broad  muzzle  on  her  lap  and 
looking  up  into  her  face. 

Just  then  a  crunching  of  twigs  was  heard, 
and  ascending  the  steep  path  from  below  came 
a  man  on  horseback,  who  proved  to  be  no  other 
than  Dunraven 

He  had  evidently  not  seen  the  occupants  of 
the  phaeton  until  he  came  upon  them.  But 
nothing  taken  aback,  he  bowed  to  Breta  and 
de  Grey,  and  dismounted,  Ulysses  greeting  him 
with  a  low,  ugly  growl.  Calling  the  dog  to  his 
side,  de  Grey  was  occupied  in  silencing  him, 
while  Dunraven,  his  hat  in  the  hand  with  which 
lightly  and  easily  he  led  his  horse,  ap- 
proached Breta,  and  offered  her  a  bunch  of 


"So!"  271 

exquisite  wild  flowers  and  brake  he  bore  in  his 
disengaged  hand. 

"  I  gathered  these,  cugina  mia"  said  he,  in 
Italian,  "  expressly  for  you,  and  intended  leav- 
ing them  for  you  at  Miss  Rutherford's.  But 
you  must  have  them  now  in  all  their  freshness 
and  beauty.  I  start  for  Liverpool  to-morrow 
morning,  and  am  glad  of  this  opportunity  to  say 
farewell."  And  holding  out  his  hand  he  took 
hers  and  carried  it  to  his  lips  in  a  jaunty,  cous- 
inly way. 

"  We  part  good  friends,"  said  he,  impres- 
sively, "  as  we  have  always  been  ;  addio"  And 
remounting  his  horse  as  lightly  and  gracefully 
as  he  had  dismounted,  he  rode  off  with  a  low 
bow  and  a  smile  that  showed  all  his  white, 
strong  teeth. 

Breta,  who  had  grown  as  white  as  her  dress, 
was  absently  pulling  the  pretty  petals  from  the 
flowers  she  loosely  held,  and  scattering  them 
broadcast. 

"  Oh,  spare  the  flowers,  Miss 'Garnet.  They 
are  very  beautiful  and  rare,  and  entirely  harm- 
less." 

Meeting  de  Grey's  look  as  he  uttered  his 
plea  for  the  flowers,  Breta,  inexpressibly 


272  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

soothed  by  the  quiet  tenderness  of  his  manner, 
rallied,  saying  with  unaffected  simplicity  : 

"  We  were  speaking  of  reading  character, 
Mr.  de  Grey.  I  find  I  must  accept  Ulysses' 
judgment  of  my  cous — of  Mr.  Dunraven.  As 
he  revealed  himself  to  me  in  the  early  part  of 
this  afternoon,  I  could  think  of  likening  him 
only  to  a — to  a — well,  to  a  tiger — strong,  sleek, 
graceful,  wary,  and—  But  the  concluding 
adjective  Breta  left  unspoken. 

"  We  all  resemble  some  one  or  more  among 
the  four-footed  animals,"  replied  de  Grey,  still 
very  quietly. 

"  I  think,  Mr.  >de  Grey,  you  must  be  some- 
whar  like  Ulysses  here  (Ulysses  had  resumed 
his  former  position  with  his  head  resting  on 
Breta's  lap)  ;  your  eyes — his  and  yours — are 
exactly  alike,"  said  Breta,  with  a  laugh. 

"  And  you,  Miss  Garnet,  I  have  often 
thought,  are  like  a  deer — always  a  dear, — re- 
treating from  disagreeable  things  shyly  and 
persistently — always  when  you  can — until 
brought  to  bay.  I  can  imagine  how  desper- 
ately brave  and  cool  you  might  be  when 
fairly  brought  to  bay." 

"  You   would  have   had   an   opportunity   of 


So! 


273 


testing-   your   theory   this    afternoon,    for   my 
cousin  and  I  had  a  quarrel." 

"  So  I  judged,"  returned  de  Grey.  "  Miss 
Garnet,"  continued  he,  regarding  her  fixedly, 
while  his  tone  was  very  gentle,  "  is  it  a  part  of 
your  creed  that  reparation  should  be  made  for 
serious  injuries  ?  " 

"  What  a  strange  question,  Mr.  de  Grey." 

"  Do  you  not  feel  self-accused,  Miss  Garnet? 
That  was  a  terrible  blow  you  gave  me  on  that 
first  Sunday  we  met  in  church.  I  shall  never 
recover  from  it." 

His  voice,  in  spite  of  the  lightness  of  his 
words,  had  a  repressed  passion  in  its  tone  that 
stirred  Breta  to  her  heart's  core  ;  and  half 
inclined  to  laugh  at  the  allusion  to  the  scene  of 
that  Sunday,  half  inclined  to  cry  with  the  con- 
flict of  her  feelings,  she  remained  silent. 

"  You  bore  it  bravely,"  continued  he.  "  My 
heart  ached  for  you,  and  every  note  of '  I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  '  registered  itself  there  never 
to  be  effaced.  Miss  Garnet,  I — Breta,  my  love 
was — was  bumped  into  me.  I  have  seen  stars 
— a  star  ever  since." 

Breta  could  stand  no  more.  The  strange 
depths  of  his  tone — the  quietness  of  his  man- 


274  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

ner,  shook  her  until  she  trembled  like  a  leaf. 
She  first  laughed  nervously,  and  then  her  eyes 
filled  with  tears.  And  somehow  Ulysses  was 
swept  from  his  perch  and  de  Grey  had  gath- 
ered her  into  his  arms.  And  the  words  he  ut- 
tered quieted  her,  and  she  gave  her  future  into 
his  keeping,  the  lovely  valley  smiling  peace- 
fully before  them,  and  Ulysses,  now  lying  in  the 
road,  his  great  head  resting  on  his  forepaws, 
looking  a  contented  assent. 

"  Breta,  darling,  will  you  enlighten  me  on  a 
point  that  has  perplexed  me  much  ?  "  asked  de 
Grey,  after  several  moments  of  silence,  looking 
earnestly  down  into  her  face. 

Breta  met  his  look  askingly,  but  made  no 
other  reply. 

"  Why,  while  you  could  not  help  listening  to 
the  voice  of  your  heart,  have  you  struggled  so 
hard  against  it  and  me  ?  For  you  have  ;  you 
were  irresistibly  drawn  to  me  ;  that  I  saw  from 
the  first.  You  were  happy  only  when  with  me ; 
that  I  felt,  and  still  I  feared  you  would  get  away 
from  me  before  I  could  grasp  you — to  have  and 
to  hold — thus.  Now  why  was  it?  " 

"  That  is  the  question  I  thought  was  coming," 
returned  Breta,  laughing,  but  rather  uneasily. 


"&/"  2;5 

"Well?" 

"  You  cannot  divine  why  ?  " 

"  On  my  soul,  no.  I  have  worked  over  that 
problem,  Breta,  as  hard  as  ever  I  did  over  the 
hyperbolic  logarithms  of  Napier,  or  the  differ- 
ential calculus." 

"  You  have  asked  me  and  I  will  answer  you. 
But  it  will  be  a  hard  thing  for  me  to  do,  and  I 
doubt  if  it  will  show  me  in  an  amenable,  ami- 
able light.  I  answered  your  question,  in  fact, 
that  Saturday  on  the  knoll  at  Elmwood  ;  and 
Uncle  Ray's  explanation  to  you  as  to  why  I 
left  Milan  arid  the  opera  you  can  recall  also.  I 
could  get  along,  you  see,  very  comfortably  with 
all  those  I  met  in  Milan,  or  here,  or  in  New 
York  — or  anywhere,  until  they  commenced 
showing  me  a  particular  preference  and — asked 
me  to  marry  them.  And  then  I  hated  them — or 
myself,  I  could  not  say  which.  What  right  had 
they  to  presume  that  I — well,  they  seemed 
to  me  like  a  pack  of  ravening  wolves,  they  were 
so — so  foreign  to  me  and  my  ways  of  thought 
and  feeling.  When  I  became  acquainted  with 
you  it  was — you  were  a  new  revelation  to  me. 
I  felt  at  once  that  I  had  met  my  other  self. 
But 'I  would  not  give  way  to  this  conviction, 


276  The  Benefit  of  the  Doiibt. 

fearing  that  you  might  possibly — and  then  that 
I  might  hate  you  also,  you  see.  But  it  is  all  over 
now.  I  shall  never  have  another  doubt  or  fear 
of — of  you  in — in  that  way." 

Breta's  broken  sentences,  uttered  in  a  tremu- 
lous voice,  though  apparently  neither  very  lucid 
nor  logical,  seemed  to  de  Grey  both,  and  to  con- 
vey also  a  very  subtle  meaning.  He  did  not 
permit  himself  to  respond  at  once,  but  quietly 
took  up  the  neglected  lines,  backed  the  horses 
from  the  maples  by  the  roadside,  where  he  had 
headed  them  to  keep  them  from  becoming  res- 
tive, and  giving  them  the  road,  drove  on  a  few 
rods  before  a  word  was  said. 

"  You  are  so  different  from  others  ;  so  true 
to  yourself;  that  is  what  I  so  love  in  you,Breta," 
said  he,  gently.  "  You  should  have  been  shield- 
ed from  all  this,  and  hereafter  you  shall — will 
be."  Then  his  tone  changing  to  a  lighter  one, 
he  added . 

"  The  general  impression  is,  I  believe,  that 
young  ladies  are  pleased  with  attentions  and 
offers  of  marriage  ;  keeping  them  for  exhibi- 
tion, as  a  brave  does  his  scalps — so  many  tro- 
phies of  their  prowess." 

Breta  laughed,  then  grew  quite  serious. 


."  So  !  "  277 

"  I  have  had  very  few  friendships  with  young 
ladies,"  she  responded.  "  Frank  is  the  only  one 
I  have  ever  been  at  all  intimate  with — I  told 
you  I  was  not  an  amiable  person,"  and  she 
laughed  again.  "  I  can  only  say  that  if  we 
would  all  follow  the  promptings  of  our  hearts 
instead  of  our  vanity  there  would  be  less 
misery,  fewer  unhappy  marriages  in  the  world." 

"  You  have  solved  what  I  consider  the  great- 
est problem  of  life,"  gravely  uttered  de  Grey. 
Then  after  a  moment's  silence  he  asked  :  "  But, 
Breta,  darling,  what  will  your  uncle  say  to  my 
having  stolen  his  treasure,  when  I  formally  ask 
him  for  your  hand  ?  " 

Breta  looked  up  shyly,  and  then  her  eyes 
grew  moist  with  tears. 

"  I  am  horribly  nervous  to-day,"  apologized 
she,  with  a  little  laugh.  "  You  must  pardon  me, 
Mr.  de — Joslyn, — I  like  your  name  so  much,  I 
have  long  wanted  an  excuse  to  call  you  by  it." 

"  It  was  my  father's  name,  and  his  father's, 
and  so  on  back ;  there  has  always  been  a  Jostyn 
de  Grey,"  returned  he,  quietly. 

"  You  spoke  of  my  uncle.  Uncle  Ray  is  one 
.in  ten  thousand.  I  can  never  leave  him,  Jos- 
lyn." 


278  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  I  esteem  him  beyond  measure — for  him- 
self, his  music,  still  more  on  your  account.  Is 
that  a  sufficient  reply,  Breta  ?  " 

"  Every  one  must  love  him  and  his  violin. 
He  never  had  an  enemy  in  the  world;  not 
even  among  those  jealous,  envious,  high-strung, 
always  antagonistic  maestri  there  in  Milan 
and  Venice  and  Paris." 

They  were  on  their  way  home  again,  and 
were  at  the  point  where  Dunraven  had  encoun- 
tered them,  and  Breta,  feeling  less  shy  and  quite 
as  though  she  and  de  Grey  had  been  on  their 
present  footing  for  months,  had  been  talking 
freely,  and  now  once  more,  of  the  view  spread 
before  them. 

"  You  can  get  a  still  finer  sight  of  the  valley 
and  its  surroundings  from  that  pile  of  rocks  way 
up  above  us  there,"  remarked  de  Grey. 

"  Yes,  I  have  seen  it  several  times ;  I  have 
been  up  there  with  Uncle  Ray." 

"  You  !  you  have  been  up  there,  Breta  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I !     I  have  been  up  there,  Joslyn." 

"  There  is  but  one  way  of  getting  there,  and 
it  is  steep  and  jagged  enough,"  and  de  Grey 
surveyed  the  almost  perpendicular  height. 

"  We — Uncle  Ray  and  I — have  climbed  more 


"       /  279 

stupendous  heights  than  this,  searching  for 
plants  and  views.  There  is  a  ledge  just  around 
that  bend,  where,  up  among  the  fissures  of  the 
rocks,  are  some  of  the  loveliest  ferns  I  ever  saw ; 
and  we  have  surprised  the  night-hawks  on  their 
rocky  nests  up  there,  blinking  in  the  sunshine, 
and  have  counted  their  eggs  and  little  ones." 

"  I  was  right  in  my  conjecture,  I  perceive. 
You  are  decidedly  of  the  cervus  tribe,  to  de- 
light so  in  a  promenade  among  such  formi- 
dable steeps.  We  will  try  the  ascent  together 
some  day.  I  should  like  to  see  how  you  do  it." 

"  Agreed,  if  you  will  stop  laughing  at  me." 

When  Selma  saw  them  enter  the  house  (for 
de  Grey  had  prevailed  upon  Breta  to  return  to 
Elmwood  with  him,  promising  to  get  her  back  to 
the  school  by  ten  o'clock)  both  looking  so  bright 
and  so  full  of  the  new  joy  born  to  them,  a  well- 
pleased  look  came  into  her  own  eyes,  and  she 
remarked  to  Mr.  Black,  who  was  just  about  to 
mount  his  horse  : 

"  My  last  fear  for  Joslyn's  future  is  dissipated. 
I  could  not  have  picked  out  a  wife  for  him  more, 
in  every  way,  suitable.  Breta  is  one  of  the  most 
harmoniously  organized  persons  I  ever  met. 
She  is  a  true  child  of  genius,  and  withal  pos- 


280  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

sesses  a  fund  of  good,  practical  sense.  She 
will  wean  him  entirely  from  his  impractical  the- 
ories." 

"  So ! "  uttered  Mr.  Black,  stopping  a  moment, 
with  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  to  consider  the  case, 
as  though  it  were  a  legal  one.  "  When  did  Jos- 
lyn  tell  you  ?  " 

"Joslyn  told  me,  Benjamin,  without  telling 
me.  I  saw  them  as  they  came  into  the  house 
together." 

"  Selma,  I  will  appoint  you  my  head  detec- 
tive when — when  the  time  comes."  And  Ben- 
jamin rode  off. 


XVIII. 

UNDER    ONE   ROOF. 

WHAT  Mr.  Whyte  said  was  : 
"My  dear,  I  am  delighted  that  you 
should  have  made  such  a  choice.  I  consider 
Joslyn  de  Grey  the  most  genuine,  the  finest 
young  man  I  ever  knew.  He  is  the  real  thing, 
way  down  deep — and  without  any  fuss  or 
feathers.  I  feared  so  much  it  might,  after  all, 
be  Noel.  And  yet  I  knew  better — that  you 
saw  him  as  he  is.  That  it  is  too  much  of  the 
post  mortem  with  him." 

Breta  regarded  her  uncle  with  a  little  puz- 
zled look,  repeating  :  "  Post  mortem,  Uncle 
Ray?" 

"  It  is  all  very  well  to  unearth  Herculaneum 
and  the  buried  cities  of  the  past ;  but  to  be  told 
how  we  should  feel  in  viewing  these  antiqui- 
ties, and  how  we  should  stand  in  the  face  of  de- 
funct grandeur  and  classic  art,  is  proof  sufficient 
the  admiration  is  not  genuine." 

281 


282  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Then  you  consider  Noel  superficial,  Uncle 
Ray  ?  You  never  said  that  before." 

"  My  dear,  Joslyn  is  not.  Suppose  two  per- 
sons are  contemplating  a  divine  work  of  art,  say 
the  Mona  Lisa.  One  of  these  persons  will  see 
and  comprehend  the  beautiful  soul  which  gives 
vitality  to  these  exquisite  features,  while  the 
other  will  see  only  the  surface  beauty  and  wor- 
ship it  because  it  is  so  faultless  in  line  and  color, 
and  because  a  certain  order  to  which  he  belongs 
— but  I  have  said  enough." 

This  was  the  next  day,  the  1 5th  of  July,  and 
Mr.  Whyte  was  conveying  his  niece  to  Elm- 
wood,  Miss  Rutherford  having  parted  from  her 
pupils  for  the  vacation,  and  with  five  or  six  of 
them,  including  Frank,  Sadie,  and  Pella,  "  for 
good,"  as  Frank  said. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Whyte  drove  up  with  Breta, 
Selma's  coachman  stopped  at  the  great  hall- 
door  with  the  carriage  containing  the  three 
young  ladies  just  named,  and  Selma  busied 
herself  in  showing  them  all  to  their  respective 
rooms. 

Their  rooms  opened  from  the  same  corridor, 
and  adjoined  each  other ;  and  Frank  declared 
that  she  should  never  sleep  a  wink  for  fear  of 


Under  One  Roof.  283 

the  ghosts,  and  she  selected  the  room  opening 
into  Sadie  Burrill's  on  one  side  and  into  Breta's 
on  the  other. 

"  Sandwiched  in  between  you  two,  and  your 
doors  into  my  room  both  open,  I  shall  be  able  to 
survive,"  averred  she,  with  a  series  of  shudders. 

"  Miss  de  Grey,  don't  you  believe  her.  It  is 
all  put  on.  Frank  is  not  one  whit  more  afraid 
than  I  am,"  and  in  an  unusually  pleasant  humor 
Pella  laughed  heartily,  selecting  the  room  in 
preference  that  had  no  communicating  door,  to 
prove  her  own  superiority  ;  she  being  "  above 
all  childish  fears,"  she  declared. 

"  The  gentlemen  have  been  in  the  city  for 
a  few  days.  Joslyn  went  this  morning  for 
mamma,  but  I  expect  them  all  back  here  this 
afternoon,"  said  Selma,  as  she  left  them  to  ar- 
range their  drawers  and  presses. 

Frank,  after  unlocking  her  trunks  and  hanging 
up  a  gown  or  two,  ran  into  Breta's  room  and 
stationed  herself  at  the  window. 

"  Did  you  know,  Breta,  Miss  de  Grey  has 
given  us  that  handy  little  Angelique  to  wait  on 
us,  and  she  has  a  new  maid  for  herself.  I  never 
had  any  thing  to  do  with  clothes  at  home,  ex- 
cept to  wear  them,  and  have  drudged  at  Miss 


284  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt, 

Rutherford's  as  long  as  I  care  to  in  the  vain  en- 
deavor of  acquiring  habits  of '  neatness,  industry, 
and  order.'  "  Here  Frank  imitated  Miss  Ruther- 
ford's voice  and  manner,  and  having  succeeded 
in  making  Breta  laugh  and  drop  a  pile  of  laces 
she  had  in  her  hand,  Frank  ur^ed  : 

o 

"  Leave  all  your  things  just  where  they  are, 
as  I  have.  Angelique  will  fix  them.  She  will 
be  here  as  soon  as  Pella  gets  through  mole-ing 
among  her  French  dresses." 

"  My  arrangements  are  comparatively  simple 
and  nearly  completed.  I  could  not  be  tortured 
with  such  a  scientific  complication  of  wardrobe 
as  Pella  has.  You  know  I  acquired  the  habits 
of  '  neatness,  industry,  and  order '  you  speak  of 
from  my  Madama  the  Contessa  Romano,  years 
ago  in  Milan." 

"  And  you  are  always  more  tastefully  dressed 
than  any  of  us.  But,  voild  /  come  over  to  the 
window  ;  here  trots  up  Counsellor  Black  on  his 
eternal  black  horse.  He  is  a  fine-looking  man 
— of  the  giant  pattern.  How  old  do  you  think 
he  is  ?  " 

"  Selma  told  me — thirty-seven." 

"  And  he  is  already  one  of  our  greatest 
lawyers — and  such  a  quantity  of  him  !  " 


Under  One  Roof.  285 

"  And  here  comes  some  one  else,  and  in  such 
an  elegant  turn-out — his  own,  undoubtedly,  for 
I  have  seen  nothing  like  it  around  here.  The 
plot  begins  to  thicken,  Frank." 

"  I  declare,  Breta,  Ralph  Conynghame  is  mag- 
nificent ;  just  like  this  new  turn-out  of  his — at 
once  elegant  and  stylish,  without  being  showy. 
I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you,  Breta.  I  intend  to 
marry  Ralph  Conynghame." 

"  So  I  have  thought  from  the  first,  Frank. 
He  will  make  you  a  good,  noble  husband,  for 
he  is  a  gentleman — a  gentleman  all  through." 

"  Is  he  not,  Breta  ?  "  That  is  what  first  at- 
tracted me  toward  him.  To  be  sure  he  has 
not  asked  me  yet,  but  that  is  a  small  obstacle  ; 
the  thing  was  for  me  to  make  up  my  mind.  I 
think  he  would  have  been  over  head  and  ears 
in  love  with  you  at  first,  as  every  one  is,  but 
that  I  would  not  allow." 

"  Frank,  you  really  shock  me." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  I  am  very  shocking ;  I  al- 
ways was  ;  mamma  and  every  one  says  so. 
But  I  am  in  solid  earnest ;  I  mean  biz.  I  was 
not  going  to  let  Ralph  Conynghame  fall  in  love 
with  you,  for  I  meant  you  for  quite  another  per- 
son. And  in  trolling  him  off  away  from  you  I 


286  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

began  to  take  so  much  interest  in  him  myself 
that  I  determined  to  appropriate  him." 

"  Frank,  you  are  getting  worse  every  day. 
And  you  are  so  nice  when  you  are  good,"  sug- 
gested Breta. 

"  I  always  was.  Mamma  and  every  one  says 
so." 

"  As  though  you  had  to  manoeuvre,  when 
from  the  first  Col.  Conynghame  was—  Frank, 
you  know  well  enough  that,  if  I  must  say  it,  he 
is  deeply  in  love  with  you." 

"  It  is  perfectly  lovely  to  hear  you  say  it, 
Breta." 

"  And  he  is  sincere  ;  in  all  respects  a  man  of 
honor,  talented,  and  genuine." 

"  And  I — I  am  not  in  all  respects  all  those 
fine  things  I  pity  him  deeply,  and  hope  he 
will  never  regret  marrying  such  a  harem-scarem, 
slangy  rantam-scoot  as  I." 

"  You  are  certainly  powerful  on  adjectives, 
Frank,"  said  Breta,  laughing.  "  But  if  you  will 
look  less  like  a  thing  uncanny,  and  listen,  I  will 
tell  you  something  that  will  delight  you  to 
hear." 

"  Something  I  already  know,  Breta.  You 
told  it  to  me  last  night,  on  your  return  from 


Under  One  Roof.  287 

Elmwood.  I  don't  mean  that  you  told  me  in 
words — you  need  n't  look  so  out  and  injured  ;— 
your  face  told  me.  And  if  two  people  were 
ever  cut  out  for  each  other,  those  two  are  you 
and  Joslyn  de  Grey."  And  Frank  threw  her 
arms  around  Breta  and  kissed  her. 

"  I  shall  begin  to  believe  you  really  are  what 
I  have  often  called  you — an  incantatrice" 

"  Mamma  and  every  one — but  here  comes 
some  one  else  in  his  two-horse  phaeton.  The 
plot  does  begin  to  thicken.  Ha  !  and  now  this 
some  one  else,  who  proves  to  be  the  young 
master  of  Elmwood,  looks  up  to  this  window, 
sees  you,  smiles,  and  bows.  What  a  lustrous, 
happy  light  is  in  his  eyes !  I  bow  to  him  also, 
not  that  I  think  he  sees  me  in  the  least,  but  to 
keep  you  company.  And  now  he  helps  out  of 
the  phaeton  that  lovely  middle-aged  lady — his 
mamma,  of  course,  who  is  the  image  of  him, 
and  does  not  look  like  Selma — not  but  that 
Selma  is  lovely,  too,  of  another  type.  Ah ! 
mon  amie,  you  have  a  beautiful  life  before  you.  I 
only  hope  my  future  mamma-in-law  is  one  half 
as  lovely  as  this  lady  whom  Selma  has  rushed 
out  to  welcome  so  warmly.  What  a  pretty 
pbture  the  three  make.  And  now  they  go  up 


288  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

the  steps  of  the  veranda  and  into  the  house. 
And^ — voila>)  qui  dement  interessant !  "  rattled 
on  Frank.  "  It  is  brother  Tom  now  coming  up 
the  drive  ;  and  in  a  spick  and  span  new  turn- 
out. It  is  a  most  gorgeous  affair,  but  does  not 
compare  with  Col.  Conynghame's,  for  Tom's 
looks  new." 

Sadie  Burrill  just  then  entering  through 
Frank's  room  joined  them,  and  catching  a 
glimpse  through  the  window  of  Tom  Bowers  as 
he  leaped  from  the  vehicle  in  his  careless,  dash- 
ing way,  she  blushed  most  eloquently. 

"  Let  us  go  down.  Have  we  gotten  on  all  our 
war-paint?"  demanded  Frank.  "  Sadie,  you 
look  perfectly  stunnin'.  Breta,  in  that  shadowy 
muslin  gown  you  look  just  like  an  angel  in  a 
fleecy  cloud  ;  now  do,  some  one,  say  some- 
thing fine  about  me."  And  Frank  commenced 
inspecting  herself  in  the  double  mirror. 

"  Frank,  you  are  transcendent !  "  exclaimed 
Sadie,  with  her  gay,  girlish  laugh. 

"  If  you  would  behave  one  half  as  well  as 
you  look,  Frank,  you  would  take  the  world 
by  storm,"  added  Breta,  laughing,  and  looking 
lovingly  at  Frank. 

A  knock  came  at  the  door,  and   Angelique 


Under  One  Roof.  289 

entered  with  a  deliciously  fragrant  basket  of 
flowers.  She  made  them  up  into  exquisite 
bouquets,  and  arranged  others,  she  had  selected, 
in  the  young  ladies'  hair  with  artistic  skill.  And 
going  to  Frank's  trays  and  boxes  she  effected 
some  brilliant  changes  in  her  toilette. 

"  I  could  not  come  sooner,  young  ladies,"  she 
said  in  her  half  French  and  half  English.  "  Miss 
Morton  kept  me.  But  to-morrow  Fanchon, 
Miss  Morton's  own  maid,  comes,  and  I  shall 
devote  myself  exclusively  to  you." 

Making  some  changes  in  Sadie's  dress, 
Angelique  surveyed  Breta  from  near  and  far, 
and  pronounced  her  perfect,  "  Ires  jolie." 
"  You  needed  only  the  flowers,  Miss  Garnet," 
she  added. 

Telling  them  they  were  the  three  most  beau- 
tiful young  ladies  she  had  ever  seen,  and  hand- 
ing them  their  bouquets,  Angelique  opened  the 
door  and  ushered  them  to  the  stairs. 

"  It  is  so  nice  to  have  it  all  done  for  you  ;  to 
have  your  war-paint  selected  and  put  on  with- 
out the  labor  of  thinking  about  it  yourself,"  ob- 
served Frank,  on  their  way  down  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. 


XIX.  . 

ALL    WITHIN    OURSELVES. 

EVERY  one  in  the  house  was  full  of  the 
opera,  for  it  had  been  decided  to  rehearse 
an  entire  opera,  and  much  discussion  ensued. 
Various  operas  were  suggested  by  first  one  and 
then  another,  and  rejected. 

"  Every  opera  named  so  far  has  a  ghost  in 
it,"  exclaimed  Frank,  with  a  stage  shiver. 
"  The  ghosts  of  the  house  would  be  sure  to 
respond,  and  it  would  be  nip  and  tuck  who 
could  get  up  the  best  demon." 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  a  young  lady  use  such 
an  expression  as  that,  Count  Gueret, — '  nip 
and  tuck  '  ?  "  sneered  Pella  to  the  count,  who 
was  examining  some  views  of  the  Tuileries  with 
her  over  at  a  table. 

"  The  Semiramide  has  not  been  named,"  in- 
timated Breta.  "  There  is  the — same  objection 
to  it  ;  but  Ninus  is  an  intensely  respectable 

shade  and — " 

290 


All  Within  Ourselves.  291 

"  Sister  Frank/'  interrupted  Bowers,  "  how 
would  you  like  to  slay  your  own  mother? 
Think  of  the  dismal  scene  in  the  mausoleum  of 
the  murdered  Ninus.  Miss  Garnet,  consider 
Frank's  nerves,  and  suggest  something  less  awe- 
inspiring  than  the  Semiramide." 

"  Brother  Tom,  living  or  dead,  with  nerves 
or  without  nerves,  whatever  other  horrible  thing 
you  do,  don't  say  Semir^wide.  The  Italian 
language,  bear  in  mind,  unlike  the  English,  or 
French,  or — or  Chinese,  has  no  appreciable  ac- 
cent. Then,  too,  the  a  is  ah,  the  e  is  a,  and  the 
i  is  e" 

"  Say-mee-rah-mee-day,  will  that  please  your 
Italian  ear  ?  Unfortunately,  /have  not  studied 
Hebrew  and  Chaldaic  and  Burmese  and  Choc- 
taw  and — Chinese,  recollect,  as  you  have.  And 
/am  not  afraid  of  ghosts." 

"  The  last  time  I  heard  the  Semiramide"  ob- 
served Conynghame,  in  his  clear,  gentlemanly 
tones,  after  the  laugh  evoked  by  Bowers  had 
subsided,  "  was  in  Berlin  ;  you  were  with  me, 
Joslyn,  and  Patti,  with  her  exquisitely-accurate 
glottis-stroke,  was  prima  donna.  The  whole 
cast  was  fine." 

Here  Count  Gueret  spoke  up  from  the  in- 


292  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

terior  of  the  Tuileries,  suggesting  several 
French  operas  ;  but  as  they  did  not  meet  with 
an  enthusiastic  acceptance,  he  went  back  to  the 
Tuileries. 

"  Suppose  we  return  to  our  first  intention, 
and  select  some  fine  scenes  from  various  operas," 
suggested  Selma; 

"  With  tableaux  between  scenes,"  proposed 
Breta,  with  a  view  to  Pella's  benefit,  whose 
Greek  face  had  elongated  considerably  during 
the  operatic  discussion. 

Pella,  at  once  all  animation,  spoke  up,  sweetly, 
in  high  treble,  of  some  "  lovely  designs  for 
tableaux  "  her  brother  had  sent  her  from  Paris. 

"  No  one  has  heard  Miss  Burrill's  opinion," 
said  Mr.  Black,  gallantly  requesting  to  know  her 
preference  also. 

Sadie,  her  delicately  pretty  face,  with  its 
square,  intelligent  forehead  and  spirituelle  feat- 
ures, all  aglow  under  the  modest  excitement 
of  pronouncing  an  opinion  before  so  many, 
said  she  would  be  delighted  to  assist  in  the 
choruses  of  the  operatic  selections,  or  in  the 
tableaux,  and  that  Miss  de  Grey  must  dispose 
of  her  where  she  could  be  made  most  avail- 
able. 


All  Within  Ourselves.  293 

"  The  blessed  little  darling  !  "  exclaimed  Tom 
in  an  undertone  to  Frank.  "  She  is  frightened 
half  out  of  her  wits,  but  she  is  clear  grit." 

"  We  will  have  the  quintette  from  the  Semi- 
ramide,  for  one  thing,"  pronounced  Selma. 
"  Ralph,  you  to  take  one  of  the  basso  parts,  and 
Mr.  Bowers  the  other." 

"  I  was  terribly  afraid,  Miss  de  Grey,"  acqui- 
esced Tom,  bowing,  "  that  we  might  finally  fetch 
up  on  Wagner's  Trilogy ;  that  has  a  trill  in  it 
thirty-six  hours  long,  and  that  takes  fifteen  days 
and  nights  without  eating  or  sleeping  to  enact 
(the  Trilogy  I  mean,  not  the  trill),  and  that  we 
would  have  to  impress  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  and 
mermaids,  and  sirens,  and  a  whole  artillery  of 
cannon.  And,  perhaps,  Wagner  himself,  with 
his  doubled  and  quadrupled  heavy  brass  in- 
struments— that  in  doubling  always  produce 
diabolical  discords — and  his  drums  so  large  and 
heavy  that  their  stroke  can  only  be  heard  ten 
bars  after  their  time  in  the  measure.  Or  at  the 
very  least  that  we  might  settle  on  the  Gott-er- 
tffow-er-ung  part ; — excuse  me,  ladies,  for  being 
profane,  but  it  is  the  name,  you  know.  For 
any  thing  less  heavy  and  long,  you  may  depend 
on  me,  Miss  de  Grey.  I  might  fall  asleep  on 


294  The  Benefit  of  the  Doiibt. 

the  night  of  the  fourteenth  day,  and  that  would 
put  out  the  rest." 

"  Tom,  Tom,"  laughingly  exclaimed  Frank, 
"  shocking  as  they  say  I  am,  you  are  worse. 
Remember,  if  we  should  all  get  suddenly  hoarse 
on  the  day  of  the  entertainment  and  not  be 
able  to  sing,  you  are  to  deliver  a  lecture  on 
music.  Et  qu  en  dites  vous,  Miss  de  Grey  ? 
Would  it  not  be  a  sufficient  immunity  for  the 
audience  ?  " 

"Quite  sufficient,"  assented  Selma,  laugh- 
ing. 

Just  then  a  visitor  was  announced  by  Bolton, 
the  footman  ;  and  a  tall  gentleman,  with  piercing 
black  eyes  and  heavy  black  beard  and  hair 
mixed  with  gray,  entered  the  room,  and  Breta, 
hastening  toward  him,  exclaimed  :  "  mio  caro 
padre  !  "  and  was  lost  in  his  arms,  the  tall  gentle- 
man concluding  his  stage  embrace  by  kissing 
her  hand.  Little  Mr.  Whyte  also  going  forward 
to  welcome  him,  was  received  by  him  with  ef- 
fusion in  a  truly  foreign  embrace.  Breta  then 
leading  him  to  Mrs.  de  Grey,  who,  in  an  arm- 
chair over  by  one  of  the  windows,  had  been 
engaged  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Whyte,  and 
at  times  a  much-amused  spectator  of  the  oper- 


All  Within  Ourselves.  296 

atic  discussion,  was  now  presented  to  the  Signer 
Trapassi,  "  my  well-beloved  maestro"  added 
Breta. 

"  To  take  me  so  by  surprise !  "  exclaimed 
Breta,  as  Selma  joined  them  and  was  introduced 
to  the  maestro. 

"  All  owing,  figlia  mia,  to  these  two  ladies 
from  whom  I  received  my  invitation  to  come 
here,"  returned  the  professore,  laughing  with  a 
malicious  enjoyment  of  Breta's  surprise. 

"I  so  much  feared  that  Professor  Trapassi 
might  not  be  able  to  come,  that  I  kept  silent  on 
the  subject,  and  enjoined  on  mamma  to  do  the 
same,"  said  Selma,  beaming  on  Breta  delight- 
edly. 

"  And  I — I  have  long  wished  to  come  to  the 
country  that  contains  my  well-beloved  pupil," 
returned  the  maestro,  in  his  imperfect  English  ; 
"  the  country  of  the  martyred  Signer  Leen- 
colen,  whom  I  revere  with  my  own  Garibaldi. 
So  I  determined  on  taking  a  holiday,  and,  grazie 
a  Dio,  here  I  am !  I  arrived  in  Nuovo  York 
to  day." 

Being  presented  generally,  the  conversation 
turned  upon  ocean  trips,  the  maestro  narrating, 
with  much  gusto,  several  amusing  incidents  of 


296  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

his.  Arid  from  ocean  trips,  arriving  at  Niagara, 
he  declared  that  one  inducement  for  coming  to 
America,  besides  hearing  his  divine  diva  sing 
once  more — for  which  he  would  have  braved  a 
dozen  tempestuous  oceans, — was  to  see  the 
great  Falls  of  Niagara,  the  vast  Western  prai- 
ries, and  the  forests  of  California.  When, 
finally,  the  intended  musical  festa  was  discussed, 
he  entered  into  the  spirit  of  it  like  a  boy — or  a 
great  maestro  on  a  holiday. 

He  took  in  hand  the  various  voices  as  though 
they  were  subjects  for  dissection  ;  admiring  or 
criticising  .without  fear  or  favor, — and  in  a 
twinkling,  made  out  the  three  hours'  pro- 
gramme, leaving  spaces  between  scena  or  solo 
for  the  tableaux. 

He  was  very  sorry,  he  declared,  that  Signer 
de  Grey  was  not  a  poor  man  ;  money  being, 
as  he  averred,  a  terrible  evil.  Declaring  he 
should  be  so  delighted  to  engage  him  and  bring 
him  out  as  primo  uomo,  and  that  he  would  in- 
sure for  him  both  fame  and  fortune. 

"  Brother  Joslyn  and  my  cousin  Ralph  (your 
basso  here,  Signer  Professore)  studied  six  or 
seven  years  while  abroad,"  said  Selma.  "They 
ought  to  sing  well." 


All  Within  Ourselves. 


297 


"  They  ought  to,  Selma,  and  one  does,"  re- 
turned Conynghame.  "  Our  first  maestro,  poor 
old  Ronaldi,  while  he  listened  to  Joslyn  with 
delight,  used  to  rave  so  distractedly  at  the  un- 
pliable  tones  of  my  voice  that  I  own  I  felt 
somewhat  self-accused  when  he  died." 

"  No  one  but  cousin  Ralph  himself  doubts 
the  excellence  of  his  singing,"  averred  Selma. 

"  I  hope,  Professor  Trapassi,"  said  Bowers, 
"  that  as  we  are  to  have  the  quintette  in  the 
Say-me-rah-me-day  (here  Tom  looked  quizzi- 
cally at  his  sister),  you  will  adjudge  the  part  of 
Assur  to  Conynghame,  and  let  me  take  that  of 
the  prophet  Oroe.  I  could  never  achieve  that 
run  of  Assur's."  And  Bowers  whistled  it  : 


"  I  should  be  sure  to  break  down  and  burst  a 
note  on  that  high  E,"  he  added. 

"  So  I  had  previously  adjudged,"  the  profes- 
sore  replied,  with  a  comprehensive  smile  and  a 
good-humored  flash,  vivid  as  lightning,  from 
the  depths  of  his  keen  black  eyes. 

"  Selma,   where   shall  I   find  a  score  of  the 


298  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

opera  ? "  asked  Conynghame.  "  I  am  not  as 
familiar  with  the  part  as  Bowers  is." 

"  In  the  library,  Ralph,  on  the  shelf  near  the 
western  bay-window,  which  contains  nearly  all 
the  operas  that  have  been  written,"  returned 
Selma. 

"Just  around  the  corner,  Conynghame,  No. 
5 20  ;  with  a  green  door  and  brass  knocker  ;  in 
front  of  a  blue  pump  ;  a  lamp-post  ^to  the  left, 
and  a  baker's  shop  opposite.  You  will  be  sure 
to  find  it." 

"  Tom,  be  careful,"  warned  Frank.  "•  Every- 
one won't  understand,  as  I  do,  that  you  don't 
mean  any  thing  by  your — 

"  But  I  do  mean  something,  Sis, — to  guide 
Conynghame  in  his  search,  and  see,  here  he 
comes  with  the  book  in  consequence.  He 
never  would  have  found  it  without." 

There  was  something  so  fresh  and  sponta- 
neous in  Bowers'  up-bubbling  drollery,  as 
though  he  were  boiling  over  with  fun  ;  his  ac- 
companying facial  changes  and  his  whimsical 
gestures,  always  more  irresistible  than  his 
words,  that  no  one  thought  of  resisting  the 
laughter  he  provoked,  and  Conynghame,  so 
quietly  polished,  taking  to  him  greatly,  extremes 

met    nnrl  the  likincr  seemed  tr>  he  mutual. 


All  Within  Ourselves.  299 

The  professore  laughed  with  the  rest,  declar- 
ing him  to  be  a  great  buffo,  and  that  in  picking 
out  for  him,  as  he  had,  Figaro's  solo  (putting  his 
finger  on  the  programme),  he  expected  him  tt 
create  a  great  sensation,  with  his  full,  deep  bari 
tone,  almost  basso  voice. 

"  We  will  leave  off  in  the  quintette  here," 
added  the  professore,  who  had  the  score  of  the 
Semiramide  in  his  hand,  "  at  nel  mio  terror" 

"  Where  we  all  die  off  in  a  smorz,  is  it  not  ?" 
asked  Bowers,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 

"  Just  before  the  Dun  Semidio"  continued 
the  professore  with  a  great  smile.  "  And  we  will 
conclude  with  the  duo  Giorno  d'  or  ore  instead  of 
Dun  Semidio,  and  that  will  give  Miss  Bowers' 
contralto  fine  scope.  I  should  like  to  hear  it 
sung  at  La  Scala  by  you  two  signorini ;  Miss 
Bowers'  contralto  is  much  finer  than  that  of  the 
Signora  Gabussi  who  sang  with  you  that  winter 
you  sang  at  the  Scala, y^/zVz  mia."  The  latter 
part  of  his  sentence  he  addressed  to  Breta  in 
his  own  tongue,  and  finding  all  understood  him, 
notwithstanding  Bowers  had  averred  he  had 
not  studied  Italian,  the  maestro  now  spoke  on  in 
his  own  language,  being  able  to  express  himself 
he  declared,  so  much  more  easily. 


300  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Tom  is  a  humbug.  He  knows  Italian  as 
well  as  I  do,"  said  Frank. 

"  II  Signer  Bowers  is  a  born  buffo"  returned 
the  professore,  with  another  great  smile. 

"  Our  chorus,  Signer  Trapassi,  consists  of 
Miss  Morton  and  Miss  Burrill,  soprani  ;  myself, 
contralto ;  Count  Gueret,  tenore,  and  Mr. 
Black,  basso.  I  hope  you  will  find  us  efficient." 

"  I  am  afraid  Signor  Trapassi  will  repent  en- 
listing me,  I  howl  so  unmercifully,"  said  Mr. 
Black  with  a  gallant  attempt  at  Bowers'  face- 
tiousness,  "  I  fear  I  shall  drown  out  all  the  rest." 

"  Oh,  do  not  fear,  Signor  Consigliere,"  re- 
turned the  maestro,  still  in  Italian,  "  you  have 
a  very  full,  noble  basso.  It  will  be  very  effective 
in  chorus." 

"  You  sing  remarkably  well,  Benjamin,  when 
you  do  not  get  too  enthusiastic, ".added  Selma 
gently. 

"  As  you  please,  Selma,  I  am  always  subject 
to  the  commands  of  the  ladies,"  acquiesced  Mr. 
Black  subsiding  into  his  legal  manner. 

"  Counsellor  Black  may  consider  himself  as 
the  ponderous  representative  of  the  Great 
Snubbed  ;  but  snubbed  so  neatly  he  feels  him- 
self complimented  rather.  He  should  stick  to 


All  Witkin  Ourselves.  101 

O 

urbane  dignity  and  leave  tomfoolery  to  Tom 
Bowers,"  said  Frank  in  a  low  tone  to  Bowers. 

"  And  to  Tom  Bowers'  sister,"  retorted  Tom. 

"  Listen,"  said  Sadie,  laughing,  who  was  be- 
side them,  "  Signer  Trapassi  is  asking  about  our 
orchestra." 

They  crossed  the  room  in  time  to  hear  Selma 
explain  to  the  maestro  that  she  was  daily  expect- 
ing two  young  cousins  who  had  been  studying 
for  the  last  ten  years  abroad,  one  an  excelling 
pianist,  the  other  a  flutist  and  violinist.  "  Both 
thorough  musicians  I  assure  you,  signore,"  con- 
tinued Selma.  "Then  we  have  Mr.  Whyte's 
violin,  and  you  know,  signore,  what  that  is,  and 
in  the  solos  brother  Joslyn's  cello,  and  last  but 
not  least  mamma  s  harp.  Mamma  is  a  wonder- 
ful harpist  I  assure  you,  and  so  used  to  playing 
she  never  tires.  If  you  think  we  need  more 
pieces,  Signor  Trapassi,  we  can  easily  engage 
them  from  New  York,  though  we  did  wish  to 
have  it  all  within  ourselves." 

Mrs.  de  Grey  came  forward  from  her  chair 
over  by  the  window,  whither  she  had  retired,  to 
say  she  was  very  sure  the  maestro  would  find 
the  orchestra  sufficient,  all  being  such  compe- 
tent musicians. 


302  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  I  quite  prefer  a  small  orchestra  of  sympa- 
thetic musicians  of  culture  to  one  composed  of 
very  many  ordinary  musicians.  The  Signer 
Whyte's  violin  is  almost  an  orchestra  in  itself," 
returned  the  maestro. 

Mrs.  de  Grey,  Selma,  and  the  maestro  con- 
tinued talking  for  a  time,  and  then  he  after- 
wards found  himself  wandering  over  the 

<!> 

grounds  with  Breta  and  reviewing  old  Milan 
times. 

They  were  sitting  on  one  of  the  carved  oaken 
benches  at  the  knoll,  the  maestro  contemplating 
the  majestic  view,  when  Mr.  Whyte  and  de 
Grey  joined  them.  And  it  was  not  long  before 
Mr.  Whyte,  getting  into  a  musical  discussion 
with  the  maestro,  carried  him  off  to  his  den  to 
play  for  him  some  of  the  scores  about  which 
they  had  been  discussing. 

It  was  in  such  hours  as  the  one  that  followed 
that  Breta  lived  a  whole  lifetime  of  content. 
And  de  Grey  watching- for  them,  employed  the 
greatest  ingenuity  in  securing  these  delightful 
moments  as  precious  to  him  as  to  her.  It  was 
not  until  the  gong  sounded  loudly  for  dinner, 
that  they  made  their  way  to  the  house  and 
joined  the  rest. 


XX. 

THE   TWO-BY-TWO    ARRANGEMENT. 

THE  rehearsals  went  on  with  great  spirit 
and  industry  ;  the  two  young  Thornes 
having  arrived  and  proving  themselves  musi- 
cians of  no  common  merit.  Fred,  the  pianist, 
had  a  touch  as  soft  as  velvet,  and  his  runs  were 
so  many  strings  of  pearls ;  while  Carl's  violin 
and  flute  being  also  greatly  commended,  Selma 
was  highly  gratified. 

The  count,  meantime,  being  well  up  in  his 
chorus  parts,  having  sung  them,  as  he  declared, 
at  the  Marquis  d'  Alby's,  had  but  little  to  do ; 
and  as  Satan  is  said  to  kindly  provide  occupa- 
tion for  such,  he  suddenly  conceived  the  idea 
that  it  would  be  prudent  to  ascertain  the  exact 
amount  in  hard  cash  owned  by  the  young 
heiress  to  whom  he  had  been  paying  such  as- 
siduous court,  and  not  rely  solely  on  appear- 
ances. 

303 


304  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

He  announced  one  morning  after  breakfast 
that  he  should  be  obliged  to  tear  himself  away 
from  the  charming  company  assembled,  for  a 
day  or  two  on  business. 

"  Why,  Gueret,"  said  Mr.  Black,  "  I  thought 
you  of  all  men  had  no  business  cares  While 
I — and,  by 'the  way,  I  must  show  myself  in 
court  this  morning,  and  will  run  down  to  the 
city  with  you,  after  I  have  rehearsed  my  parts  in 
the  choruses." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,  Black  ;  the  choruses  all 
coming  first  to-day  at  my  request,"  returned 
the  count,  smiling  through  his  moustache. 

The  count  was  gone  but  two  days  ;  the  re- 
sult of  his  investigations  proving  so  entirely 
satisfactory,  that,  paying  to  the  jobber-in-law 
(Black  not  having  been  let  into  the  secret)  a 
certain  sum  for  assisting  him  in  his  search  into 
the  extent  of  the  Morton  property,  he  at  once 
purchased  a  baronial-looking  buggy,  on  the 
panel  of  which  he  had  hastily  painted  a  sar- 
coramphus  surrounded  by  hieroglyphics — his 
coat  of  arms. 

The  artist,  who  so  hastily  painted  the  sar- 
coramphus,  had  given  the  head  of  the  bird  a 
knowing  tilt  to  one  side,  much  as  if  it  were  a 


The    Two-by-  Two  Arrangement.        305 

human  vulture.  And  without  sensing  the  pos- 
sible application  of  this  representation  of  family 
emblazonry  to  his  own  individual  case,  he  had 
the  vehicle  conveyed  to  the  village  of  Lea  in 
the  cars,  which  also  carried  him.  And  there 
having  the  handsome  horse  he  had  purchased 
harnessed  to  it  (although  feeling  the  outlay  with 
his  limited  income  inconvenient),  he  drove  with 
a  brave  heart  to  Elmwood. 

The  mornings  were  now  devoted  rigidly  to 
rehearsals — the  count,  his  mind  at  ease,  work- 
ing as  indefatigably  as  the  rest, — and  the  after- 
noons to  the  relaxation  of  drives  or  rides. 
And  the  order  of  the  drives  seemed  tacitly  un- 
derstood without  any  prepared  plan  ;  the  count 
with  Pella  in  the  baronial  buggy  heading  the 
two-by-two  arrangement. 

De  Grey  had  stocked  his  stables  well  with 
a  quantity  of  fine  saddle-horses  ;  and  frequently 
the  whole  party  rode  forth,  forming  quite  an 
imposing  cavalcade.  The  maestro,  who  seemed 
to  thoroughly  enjoy  himself,  fairly  scoured  the 
country  far  and  near  on  horseback,  accompanied 
only  by  Mr.  Whyte  and  the  two  young  Thornes, 
at  all  times,  when  the  entire  party  did  not  ride 
with  them. 


306  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

As  the  rehearsals  progressed,  the  whole  house 
went  wild  over  Breta's  singing,  and  young  Fred 
Thorne,  who  lived  solely  in  and  for  music,  made 
of  her  a  worship. 

"  She  alights  on  her  notes  like  a  bird,  and 
rings  out  those  lark-like  tones  of  hers  with  such 
ease  and  purity  of  intonation,  with  such  a  plomb- 
ness,  never  obliterating  the  beat  of  the  measure 
by  faulty  slurrings,  every  note  being  taken  with 
a  clean  attack  with  the  true  glottis-stroke,  and 
never  in  the  larynx  with  stiffened  jaw  and  tongue 
(that  horrible  voce  bianco,  we  hear  from  the  ma- 
jority of  singers),  that  every  one  must  feel  what 
the  world  is  losing  that  she  is  not  out  in  it  as 
prima  donna." 

This  young  Thorne  said  to  the  maestro,  and 
the  reply  was — the  maestro  transfixing  him  with 
his  keen  glance  that  added  more  force  to  his 
words  : 

"  You  may  well  rave,  youngster.  The  world 
does  not  contain  any  thing  so  perfect — mind  I 
say  perfect — in  the  way  of  singing  as  the  voice 
and  method  of  the  Madamigella  Breta  Garnet." 

The  only  two  not  carried  away  by  enthusiasm 
on  the  point  of  Breta's  singing  were  Pella  and 
the  count. 


The   Two-by-  Two  Arrangement.        307 

But  they  had  weighty  matters  of  their  own 
on  hand  to  occupy  their  thoughts.  For  one 
thing  Pella  made  it  a  study  to  select  which  of 
her  endless  variety  of  costly  French  dresses  she 
should  wear  each  day.  And  one  day  being, 
with  the  help  of  her  French  maid,  more  ele- 
gantly dressed  than  usual  (it  was  a  masterpiece 
of  Worth's  she  wore,  just  sent  her  by  her  broth- 
er), the  count  could  restrain  the  ardor  of  his 
love  no  longer.  He  made  his  declaration,  men- 
tioning casually  that  as  his  wife  she  would  have 
access  to  all  the  courts  of  Europe,  and  was 
graciously  accepted. 

Frank  congratulated  her  when  Pella,  with 
flushed  cheeks,  announced  to  her  her  tri- 
umph. 

"  He  is  the  genuine  article,  Pella,  and  no 
humbug.  His  pedigree,  Counsellor  Black  said, 
reaches  back  to  the  Huguenots.  He  is  poor, 
and  all  that,  but  he  is  one  of  the  bluest-blooded 
counts  extant.  And  you — you  have  enough 
money,  you  know,  for  both." 

"  His  ancestors  were  impoverished  in  the 
Revolution,"  returned  Pella.  "  I  wrote  to  my 
.brother  to  ascertain  all  about  him,  and  received 
his  reply  yesterday.  He  assures  me  the  count 


308  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

can  have  access  to  every  court  in  Europe,  and 
the  count  himself  says  so.  As  for  money,  fort- 
unately I  have,  as  you  say,  sufficient  for 
both." 

"  Are  you  sure  the  count  does  not  seek  you 
just  on  account  of  your  money,  Pella  ?  " 

"  He  is  entirely  too  noble  for  a  thought  of 
that  kind.  He  loves  me  with  the  truest  affec- 
tion, for  he  has  told  me  so." 

"  And  you  love  him  ?  " 

"  Most  certainly  I  do." 

"  After  having-  ascertained  that  he  is  truly  a 
count,  and  can  carry  you  into  all  the  courts  of 
Europe — with  your  own  money  ?  " 

"  How  perfectly  hateful  you  are,  Frank.  But 
you  always  were  that.  Of  course  after  I  had 
ascertained  all  about  him.  I  should  not  have 
permitted  myself  to  love  him  before,  as  it  be- 
hooves me  to  protect  myself — my  father  and 
mother  both  being  dead,  and  my  brother,  like 
yours,  only  three  years  older  than  myself." 

"  I  was  hateful,  Pella  ;  pardon  me,"  exclaimed 
Frank,  thawing  out  with  remorseful  sympathy. 
"  You  are  very  much  alone,  and  I  should  have 
thought  of  that — I,  who  have  mother,  father, 
brother,  and  sister.  I  am  truly  sorry  for  you, 


T/ie   Two-by-  Two  Arrangement.        309 

and  will  be  your  friend  and  do  what  I  can  to 
prove  it." 

"  I  do  not  know  as  I  shall  stand  in  any 
need  of  the  commiseration  of  any  one.  I  shall 
have  the  count  to  protect  me  ;  and  shall  pass 
my  life  in  very  different  scenes  from  these." 

"  It  is  always  better  to  take  a  perfectly  prac- 
tical view  of  things,"  returned  Frank,  freezing 
up  again. 

"  Certainly  it  is  ;  for  once  I  agree  with  you. 
But  please  understand  that  what  I  have  told  you 
is  in  confidence.  When  the  suitable  time  comes 
it  shall  be  imparted  to  all." 

Frank  promised,  and  then  said  :  "  But,  Pella, 
one  should  be  sure  that  one  loves,  you  know.  I 
had  formed  an  idea  somehow  that  you  cared  for 
Joslyn  de  Grey." 

"  How  very  absurd  !  "  exclaimed  Pella.  "  You 
know  well  enough  he  is  engaged  to  Breta.  I 
certainly  think  he  could  have  done  much  better, 
but  it  is  not  for  me  to  tell  him  so." 

"  Certainly  not,"  assented  Frank. 

Frank  had  but  little  time  to  devote  to  con- 
siderations for  Pella ;  she  having  an  affair  of 
her  own  that  took  all  her  wits  to  manage.  And 
so  far,  no  Wall  Street  operator  could  have 


3io  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

manipulated  a  crooked  "corner"  more  clev- 
erly. 

Conynghame  more  than  once  had  arrived  al- 
most to  the  point  at  which  he  was  aiming  ;  but 
Frank,  with  dexterous  ingenuity,  had  always 
contrived  some  inopportune  remark,  teeming 
with  such  irresistible  drollery,  that  Ralph,  from 
an  extremely  sentimental  mood,  was  forced  into 
an  extremely  jovial  one. 

One  afternoon  he  seemed  unusually  inspired, 
and  had  successfully  parried  all  her  whimsical 
speeches,  until,  as  they  were  going  through  a 
long  stretch  of  woods,  dark  and  silent  (the 
horse,  with  a  loosened  rein,  rhythmically  crunch- 
ing the  fallen  leaves),  he  quietly  but  boldly  took 
Frank's  hand,  that  had  been  lying  ungloved  on 
her  lap,  within  the  firm  clasp  of  his  own  long, 
white  fingers,  and  commenced  scrutinizing  it. 

"  A  vast  difference  between  the  color  of  the 
two  hands,  is  there  not,  Col.  Conynghame  ?  " 
said  Frank,  in  a  tone  of  pretended  indifference  ; 
"  mine  so  excessively  brown,  what  one  might 
call  a  brown  paw,  and  yours  so — " 

"And  yet  in  the  possession  of  this  little 
brown  paw  lies  all  my  future  happiness,"  inter- 
rupted he,  clasping  it  still  more  firmly. 


The   Two-by-  Two  Arrangement.        3 1 1 

"  It  seems  incredible  that  a  hand  more  or  less 
can  do  so  much  as  that  for  any  one.  So  many 
people  in  this  world  have  had  their  hands  ampu- 
tated and  yet  have  lived  and  been  happy." 

"  A  hand  more,  not  a  hand  less,  is  what  I 
wish,  Frank.  Will  you  vouchsafe  me  this?" 

"  Colonel  Conynghame,  when  you  are  done 
with  my  hand,  I  will  trouble  you  to  return  it.  I 
do  not  see  what  any  one  needs  with  more  than 
two  hands." 

"  But  you  see,  Frances,  I  am  not  done  with 
it,  and  I  need,  actually  need,  four.  And  more 
than  all  I  need  the  warm  heart  accompanying 
this  hand.  Will  you  resign  it  to  my  keeping  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure,  Colonel  Conynghame,  if  you  are 
such  a  Briareus  as  all  that,  you  had  better  make 
a  collection  of  hands,  winding  up  with  clock 
hands  ;  as  for  mine,  it  is  entirely  out  of  my 
power  to  give  you  what  you  have  levied  upon. 
And  as  for  the  other  article  for  which  you  ask, 
why,  that  was  yours  ages  ago.  But  how  any 
one  so  highly  cultured  can  wish  to  be  bothered 
with  such  a  slang-y,  crude, — Colonel  Conyng- 
hame, how  did  you  like  your  Cousin  Fred's 
improvisation  this  morning  ?  " 

But  Ralph  would  not  be  put  off.    He  told  her, 


312  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

still  retaining  her  hand,  how  much  he  loved  her, 
how  beautiful  he  thought  her,  until,  whetting 
her  tongue  to  a  double  edge  : 

"  What  a  curious  coincidence,  Colonel  Con- 
ynghame  !  "  said  she  ;  "  I  also  consider  you  per- 
fectly lovely.  Too  lovely  for  any  thing!  The 
first  time  I  beheld  you  I  was  struck  with  your 
commanding  appearance  and  elegant  manners. 
Your  eyes  are  positively  divine,  and  your  nose 
is  the  most  chiselled  nose  I  ever  saw.  I  never 
could  have  loved  any  one  less  beautiful  than 
you,  or  less  altogether — ' 

She  was  going  on,  but  unable  longer  to  with- 
stand the  drollery  of  it,  the  woods  rang  with  his 
peals  of  laughter,  and  Frank  had  gained  her 
point,  Ralph  scarcely  knowing  whether  he  had 
or  had  not  been  accepted. 


XXI. 

THE    DAY    OF    THE  MATINEE. 

IT  was  in  October  ;  the  two  and  a  half  months 
of  rehearsals  were  over,  and  the  day  of  the 
matinee  had  arrived.  Mr.  Whyte,  bearing  in 
his  hand  some  official  papers,  was  seeking  Breta, 
and  found  her  with  Frank  and  Mrs.  de  Grey  in 
the  little  theatre  where  the  gardener  and  his 
men  were  just  completing  the  floral  decorations. 

He  requested  in  his  mild  way  permission  to 
intrude  a  little  business,  saying  apart  to  Breta  : 

"  It  relates  to  my  brother-in-law,  William 
Waldo,  my  dear  Breta." 

"  You  darling  little  uncle,"  returned  Breta, 
laying  her  hand  tenderly  on  his  arm,  "  some- 
thing has  greatly  disturbed  you." 

"  I  never  have  had  much  patience,  my  dear, 
when  Waldo — who  by  his  scaly,  legal  tricks 
contrived  to  make  away  with  all  I  owned  at  one 
fell  sweep — turns  up.,  though  now  he  has  turned 
down  I  should  have." 

313 


3 14  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

11  Turned  down,  Uncle  Ray?"  repeated  Breta. 

"  Dead,  my  dear.  A  ghost  with  the  rest,  and 
not  a  very  good  ghost  either,  I  fear.  He  per- 
formed one  act  of  restitution  at  the  last,  leaving 
me  sole  heir  to  all  he  owned,  which  in  his  will 
he  confessed  was  not  only  legally  mine  but  actu- 
ally mine.  You  see,  I  was  in  those  days 
utterly  careless  of  money,  and  he  had  the  sole 
management  of  mine." 

Breta  made  no  reply,  but  was  looking  thought- 
fully on  the  floor. 

"  It  is  a  very  large  property,  Breta,  and  it  will 
all  be  yours  some  day." 

"  Oh,  don't,  Uncle  Ray,  dear— 

"  My  dear,  I  won't — at  least  not  now." 

Signor  Trapassi  chancing  in  just  then,  Mr. 
Whyte  handed  him  the  papers.  He  took  all 
in  with  one  of  his  eagle  glances,  merely  re- 
marking dryly  : 

"  The  Signor  Gulielmo  Waldo  performed  one 
act  of  justice  in  his  long  life.  Let  us  hope  it 
may  profit  him  hereafter.  My  dear  madama," 
continued  the  maestro,  turning  to  Mrs.  de 
Grey,  "  I  am  truly  sorry  to  leave  Elm  wood.  I 
have  passed  here  one  of  the  pleasantest  sum- 
mers of  my  life.  I  start  to-morrow  morning 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  315 

for  the  Falls,  by  way  of  Watkin's  Glen.  I 
shall  take  a  peep  from  the  top  of  the  Catskills, 
and  shall  visit,  in  short,  all  the  places  of  note  in 
your  country  before  I  leave  it.  I  shall  steam 
through  the  chain  of  great  lakes  to  the  Western 
prairies,  and  shall  return  from  California  by 
way  of  Panama." 

"  You  have  made  yourself  well  acquainted, 
I  see,  with  the  geography  of  our  country,  Sig- 
nor  Trapassi,"  returned  Mrs.  de  Grey,  in  her 
pure  Italian  accent,  looking  at  the  maestro  with 
the  good,  true  look  her  son  had  inherited.  "  We 
shall  hope  to  have  you  some  time  with  us  on 
your  return  before  you  sail  for  Europe." 

The  maestro  was  replying  with  a  qualified 
affirmative,  when  Selma,  with  Miss  Rutherford 
entered,  followed  by  Bowers  and  the  young 
Thornes. 

"  I  came  over  early,  as  you  see,  this  morn- 
ing," said  Miss  Rutherford,  "  to  offer  my  as- 
sistance ;  but  I  find  nothing  to  do  but  to  ad- 
mire. The  decorations  are  all  exquisite,  and 
the  wilderness  of  flowers  everywhere  makes 
the  whole  house  look  like  fairy-land." 

"  Then  you,  madam,  are  one  of  the  happy 
mortals  who  have  been  in  fairy-land  and  can 


3 1 6  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

speak  from  experience,"  said  Bowers,  bowing 
whimsically  to  Miss  Rutherford. 

"  You  must  excuse  Brother  Tom,  Miss  Ruth- 
erford," apologized  Frank.  "  He  is  writing  a 
book  of  travels,  and  is  anxious  to  get  all  the  in- 
formation concerning  undiscovered  countries 
that  he  can." 

Smiling  blandly  upon  both  sister  and  brother, 
Miss  Rutherford  wished  to  know  when  the  mat- 
inee began. 

"  At  two  o'clock,"  replied  Selma,  "  that  those 
of  our  friends  who  so  wish  can  return  by  the 
evening  train." 

"  At  two,  sharp,  the  overture  in  one  flat," 
added  Bowers,  who  was  assistant  stage-mana- 
ger. 

"  I  begin  to  feel  as  though  I  should  prefer 
being  one  of  the  audience,  and  I  know  Sadie 
does.  Don't  you,  Selma  and  Breta  ?  "  said 
Frank,  languidly  seating  herself. 

"  My  heart  fairly  palpitates  with  the  agitation 
of  the  coming  ordeal.  I  know  Joslyn's  and 
Ralph's  must.  Don't  yours,  Fred  and  Carl  ?  " 
mimicked  Tom  in  falsetto.  "  These  seats  are 
so  comfortable,"  and  he  threw  himself  into 
one  of  the  luxurious  seats  for  the  audience. 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  317 

The  sound  of  numerous  carriages  on  the 
gravel  drive  called  Mrs.  de  Grey  and  Selma  to 
welcome  their  guests,  Breta,  Mr.  Whyte,  and 
the  maestro  going  out  of  the  room  at  the  same 
time  with  the  two  ladies. 

"  How  large  an  audience  do  you  expect, 
Miss  Bowers  ?  "  asked  Miss  Rutherford. 

"  Over  five  hundred  invitations  were  sent 
out,  and  we  have  received  nearly  one  hundred 
regrets.  We  lunch  at  twelve  to-day,  to  give 
us  all  plenty  of  time  ;  and  we  dine  at  six  after 
it  is  all  over.  We  have  the  celebrated  Gabriel 
chef  de  cuisine,  and  must  expect  wonders  in  the 
way  of  lunch  and  dinner.  Excuse  me  a 
moment,  Miss  Rutherford,  mamma  has  just  ar- 
rived ;  I  hear  her  voice.  I  will  send  one  of  the 
maids  to  show  you  the  way  to  the  dressing- 
rooms."  And  Frank  was  off,  her  brother  hav- 
ing preceded  her. 

Each  one  of  the  five  hundred  guests  pres- 
ent had  that  day  something  to  recall  in  after 
years  ;  the  whole  thing,  including  the  lunch  and 
dinner  of  the  famous  Gabriel,  being  a  decided 
success.  The  house  from  garret  to  cellar  was 
literally  a  scene  of  enchantment  ;  and  the  sing- 
ers and  orchestra  so  perfect  in  their  various 


318  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

parts,  all  executing  them  with  such  musical  pre- 
cision, and  Breta  fairly  excelling  herself,  that, 
from  the  first  note  of  the  three  hours'  matinee 
to  the  last,  the  Signer  Trapassi  was  in  a  state 
of  intense  satisfaction. 

By  half-past  nine  all  the  guests,  save  those 
who  remained  all  night  at  Elmwood,  among 
whom  were  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bowers,  had  gone  to 
meet  down  or  up  trains,  or  had  returned  to 
their  homes  at  Lea. 

Through  the  windows  of  the  great  drawing- 
room  came  the  pleasant  October  air,  low  fires 
in  the  grates  removing  the  evening's  chill, 
while  various  groups  here  and  there  were  dis- 
cussing the  various  topics  the  music  had 
awakened. 

In  the  deep  embrasure  of  one  of  the  windows 
Breta,  de  Grey,  and  the  maestro  were  hold- 
ing an  animated  disquisition  on  the  merits  of 
various  composers.  The  moonlight  streaming 
down  on  them  mistily  through  the  delicate 
tracery  of  the  lace  curtains,  partially  draped 
in  as  they  were  from  the  lights  of  the  room  by 
the  heavy  folds  of  damask  hangings,  gave  to  the 
maestro  s  tall  form,  dark  face,  and  piercing  eyes 
an  almost  weird  look,  while  it  heightened  every 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  319 

charm  of  Breta's  young  beauty.  And  de  Grey, 
sitting  a  little  more  in  the  shade,  drank  in  the 
loveliness  of  her  ever-varying  face,  making  now 
and  then  a  remark  so  pertinently  suggestive, 
that  it  set  the  maestro  off  again  at  elucidating  in 
his  strong,  terse  language  some  abstruse  point 
he  had  well  studied. 

"  Leaving  abstrusities,"  said  he,  "and  return- 
ing  to    our   matinee,    Dio   santo!    but    voun<r 

o  *  o 

Thorne  plays  a  remarkably  sympathetic  piano 
accompaniment.  Carl  also  delighted  me,  and 
I  cannot  say  enough  on  the  excellence  of  the 
signora's  harp.  Corpo  di  Bacco!  but  it  was 
fine." 

"  My  mother  plays   the  harp  well,"  assented 
de  Grey. 

"  And  you,  signore.  I  have  seldom  heard  a 
tenore  I  like  better.  The  timbre  of  your  voice 
pleases  me.  You  could  make  a  great  artist. 
But  for  the  Madamigella  Breta,  here,"  continued 
the  maestro,  "per  /'  amore  di  Dio  !  What  can 
I  say  ?  Her  runs  and  trills  are  perfection— 
her  grupetti,  her  suoni  martcllati  faultless — her 
portamento,  the  ease  with  which  she  attacks  the 
highest  note,  absolutely  unequalled.  And  that 
last  crescendo  di  forza  of  yours,  signorina," 


320  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

concluded  he,  "  was  actually  an  impossibility. 
And  it  is  my  belief  that  you  are  no  less  than  a 
sorceress — an  incantatrice,  or  the  diavolessa  in 
person." 

"  Which  interpretation  of  your  last  noun, 
maestro  mio,  am  I  to  accept  ? "  returned  Breta, 
laughing. 

"  Oh,  you  are  here,  Joslyn ! "  exclaimed  Selma, 
appearing  from  under  the  loopings  of  the  heavy 
draperies.  "  Excuse  me  if  I  interrupt,  but 
mamma  wishes  just  one  word  with  you.  Hicks 
has  called  and  is  in  much  distress." 

"A  fe,  but  they  are  a  very  charming  family  !  " 
remarked  the  maestro  to  Breta,  after  de  Grey 
and  his  sister  had  left.  "I  wish — have  been 
wishing  to  say  something  to  you,  figlia  mia.  I 
have  been  trembling,  yes,  actually  trembling 
these  three  years  past,  fearing  you  might  be 
finally  induced  to  throw  yourself  away  on  that 
scioccone,  Dunraven."  Breta  started  perceptibly, 
the  maestro  had  spoken  in  his  most  energetic 
Italian.  "  But  you — you  must  accept  my  warm- 
est congratulations  on  the  choice  you  have 
made,"  continued  he,  more  mildly.  "  The  Sig- 
nor  de  Grey  is  generoso,  naturale,  cortcse,  be- 
nigno — one  of  the  very  few  genuine  men  I 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  321 

ever  met.     Your  future,  signorina,  lies  bright 
before  you." 

Breta  made  no  reply,  but  glanced  up  at  the 
professore  with  a  gravely  appreciative  look. 

"  What  think  you,  cara"  he  added,  changing 
his  tone,  "  the  Signora  de  Grey  insisted  on  my 
accepting  five  thousand  of  the  dollars  of  this 
country,  when  three  thousand  are  all  for  which 
I  had  stipulated  ;  and  when — alia  buon  or  a,  I 
should  have  come  all  the  same  without  a  danaro, 
so  much  I  wished  to  see  and  hear  my  madami- 
gella.  And  then,  to  add  insult  to  injury  " 
here  the  professore,  speaking  in  a  tone  of  delicate 
irony,  flashed  from  the  fire  of  his  eyes  a  subtle 
glance  of  malicious  humor — "  to  add  insult  to  in- 
jury," he  repeated  with  another  lightning  gleam, 
"  the  maestro  Whyte  fairly  compelled  me  to  take 
the  same  amount,  mating  it  exactly,  to  pay  for, 
— so  he  said — his  niece's  lessons  this  summer." 
And  the  professore  concluded  with  a  short,  dry 
laugh. 

"  I  do  not  feel  that  any  money  can  repay  you 
for  what  you  have  taught  me,  maestro  mio" 
said  Breta,  with  grave  warmth  ;  "  I  have  learned 
much  this  summer." 

The  maestro  gave  Breta  a  questioning  glance 


322  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

from  the  fire  of  his  eyes,  and  smiling,  he  offered 
her  his  arm  and  they  joined  de  Grey,  who  was 
just  seeking  them  ;  they  passing  on  their  way 
Bowers  and  his  sister,  sitting  at  a  window,  chatting 
together  merrily.  / 

"  I  tell  you  it  will  take  me  months  to  get 
over  her  voice.  She  is  a  marvel  of  a  prima 
donna  tamed  down  into  quiet  life,"  insisted 
Tom  Bowers. 

"  Tant  mieux"  was  the  sententious  reply. 

"  I  question  whether  it  is  better  to  hide  such 
a  gift  as  hers  under  the  bushel  of  private  life," 
Tom  declared. 

"  Tom,  you  should  have  come  back  from  Paris 
when  I  wrote  for  you.  Breta  was  spending  the 
Christmas  holidays  with  me — papa  and  mamma 
adoring  her.  What  I  wished  was— 

"  Oh,  gammon,  Sis.,  she  never  would  have 
looked  at  me — that  de  Grey  chap  was  just  made 
for  her.  He  is  worth  ten  of  me — ten  times  as 
clever — ten  times  as — 

"  Tom,  we  girls  go  into  heroics  over  other 
girls.  I  did  not  know  your  sublime  sex  did  over 
each  other.  But,  Tom,  let  me  tell  you,  you  are 
not  to  be  sneezed  at.  If  you  had  only  come — 
if  Breta  had  seen  you  before  de  Grey — " 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  323 

"  Please  disabuse  yourself,  Sis.,  of  the  Breta 
Garnet  theory.  Persons,  like  water,  must  find 
their  level  to  be  happy  in  this  world.  And  Miss 
Breta  Garnet  is  so  far  above  my  level  that  I 
should  stand  only  with  clasped  hands  in  an  at- 
titude of  adoration  all  my  life.  That  you  see 
would  be  excessively  inconvenient.  Now,  that 
little  gem  of  a  Sadie  Burrill  is  quite  on  my  level. 
I  can  comprehend  and  love  the  dear  little  thing 
without  feeling  in  the  least  like  falling  down  on 
my  knees  and  worshipping  her.  De  Grey,  who 
lives  in  the  seventh  heaven  already,  is  just  sub- 
lime enough  and  all  that,  for  one  so  transcend- 
ently  gifted  and  lovely  as  Breta  Garnet.  They 
will  go  on  soaring  through  life,  while  I,  who 
have  not  fledged  my  wing-feathers,  should  I 
attempt  to  soar,  would  go  up  like  a  rocket  and 
come  down  like  a  stick.  He,  you  see,  being  on 
her  level— 

"  Your  head  is  certainly  getting  level,  Tom, 
for  that  is  the  first  sensible  speech  I  ever  heard 
you  make." 

"  Thank  you,  Sis. ;  I  hope  Sadie  has  imbibed 
from  you  your  faculty  for  combing  a  fellow's 
.hair  ;  it  is  so  vivifying.  I  say,  Sis.,  that  Prince 
Conynghame  of  yours  is  the  deadest-in-love  of 
any  man  I  ever  saw,  except  de  Grey." 


324  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  And  you — you  are  not,  you  know,  Tom." 

"  Frank,  I  can  tell  you  two  who  are  not  ;  and 
those  two  are  the  count  and  that  Miss  Morton, 
— with  her  cool,  Greek  face — who  thinks  a 
deuced  sight  more  of  de  Grey  than  she  does  of 
her  count." 

"  Can  you  see  that,  Tom  ?  I  have  known  it 
from  the  first  time  she  ever  saw  him.  But 
knowing  she  has  no  chance  there,  she  is  un- 
willing to  let  slip  the  chance  of  being  presented 
as  a  countess  to  all  the  courts  of  Europe,— 
there,  that  was  a  secret !  I  have  not  told  it  to 
Breta,  even." 

"  All  safe,  Frajjk.  But  do  look  at  our  mamma 
making  so  much  of  your  friend  Breta,  and 
beaming  so  radiantly  on  de  Grey.  Our  mamma 
is  a  very  handsome  and  well-conducted  middle- 
aged  lady,  and  I  for  one  am  tremendously 
proud  of  her." 

"  She  is  a  true  Bowers  of  the  energetic 
school,"  acquiesced  Frank.  "  But  she  is  a  modi- 
fied Bowers,  with  the  slang  rubbed  out  of  her 
by  the  habit  of  years  of  good  society.  There, 
Tom,  they  have  commenced  on  ghosts.  I  shall 
not  sleep  a  wink  to-night ;  but  do  let  us  go  over 
and  hear  what  Mr.  Whyte  is  saying." 


The  Day  of  the  Matinte.  326 

"  My  dear  madame,"  he  was  saying  to  Mrs. 
de  Grey,  "  if  you  had  been  buried  for  years, 
with  no  other  companionship  frequently  for  days 
at  a  time  than  ghosts,  you  would  not  have  known 
whether  you  knew  or  not.  I  was  beeinninor  to 

•I  O  O 

consider  them  the  reality  of  life  ;  and  that  once 
in  the  arena  as  public  lecturer  my  subject  would 
be  the  '  Coming  Ghost '  : — Will  the  coming 
ghost  smoke  tobacco?  Will  the  coming  ghost 
eat  horse-radish  ?  Shave  notes," — and  Mr. 
Whyte  gave  one  of  his  twisted  smiles.  "  Will 
not  the  coming  ghost  be  the  chief  actor  on  this 
mundane  sphere  ?  But  since  the  ghosts  have 
quitted  this  mansion  I  begin  to  doubt  whether 
I  ever  heard  the  unaccountable  sounds  that— 

"  There  is  no  doubt  in  my  mind  on  the  sub- 
ject," interrupted  Black,  with  a  ponderous  laugh. 
"  The  unaccountable  sounds  were  in  the  room 
with  me — were  invisible,  and  were  a  reality." 

"  They  might  have  proceeded  from  cats. 
Cats  have  great  ventriloquial  powers,"  suggest- 
ed Bowers. 

"  Cats  sing  most  astonishingly,"  rejoined 
Black,  "  but  cats  cannot  sing  '  Una  voce  pocofa' 
like  a  highly  cultured  prima  donna  ;  eh,  Signer 
Trapassi  ?  " 


326  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Unless  it  were  the  shade  of  the  great  Cat- 
alini,"  said  Bowers,  the  maestro  only  smiling  sig- 
nificantly for  all  reply. 

"  Tom,  I  owe  you  one  for  your  Cat-alini." 

"  Frank,  you  have  owed  me  one  since  day 
before  yesterday — so  now  you  owe  me  two." 

"  I  should  think,  Tom,  you  would  consider  it 
in-for-a-dig  to  dun.  But  I  can  only  say,  su-um 
cuique"  returned  Frank. 

"There,  Tom,  said  Mr.  Bowers, pkre,  laugh- 
ing, "  you  are  paid  with  interest.  Now  let  us 
solve  the  ghost  problem.  I  side,  so  far,  with  Mr. 
Black." 

Young  Fred  Thorne  suggested  boys.  He 
knew  from  late  experience  what  boys  could 
achieve  in  the  way  of  curious  noises  ;  and  in  this 
his  brother  Carl  joined  him. 

The  boy  theory  was  discussed,  and  illustrated 
by  numerous  anecdotes,  until  Black  admitted 
that  all  the  noises  he  heard  that  memorable 
morning  might  have  been  made  by  boys,  espe- 
cially the  Callithumpian  concert.  "  But  no  boy, 
or  cat,  could  have  sung  the  '  Una  voce]"  in- 
sisted he,  "  or  that  divine  gem  from  Himmel's 
Ossian,  except,  perchance,  a  boy  from  the  Cis- 
tine  Chapel,"  he  added. 


\  The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  327 

"  There  never  was  a  boy  who  would  not 
have  ended  on  the  key-note,"  observed  Mr. 
Whyte,  with  another  of  his  twisted  smiles. 
"  Even  cats  always  end  on  the  tonic.  But  I  find 
myself  going  back  to  my  old  disbelief  in  every 
thing  supernatural.  Some  learned  metaphysi- 
cians declare  the  whole  universe  to  be  but  an 
idea.  Ghosts  then  can  be  but  the  shadow  of  an 
idea." 

"  Let  who  may  ridicule  these  things,"  re- 
marked Mrs.  Bowers,  "  we  have  too  many  well 
authenticated  instances  of  unaccountable  sights 
and  sounds,  of  warnings  and  presentiments  to 
discredit  entirely  what  is  called  the  super- 
natural." 

"  Brother  Joslyn's  theory,  Mrs.  Bowers,"  said 
Miss  Selma,  "  that  the  unseen  world  and  the 
palpable  world  are  so  closely  connected,  that 
what  we  deem  the  supernatural,  is  only  a  rare- 
fied type  of  the  natural  world,  is,  I  find,  getting 
to  be,  with  some  modifications,  mine  also." 

"  A  certain  profound  French  ethicist  asserts 
that  human  perfection — the  perfect  man — will 
be  the  product  only  of  the  coalescing  of  the  two 
worlds — the  physical  and  spiritual,"  observed 
de  Grey. 


328  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  All  the  ghosts  of  the  past  and  present  to  be 
always  around  us,"  exclaimed  Frank,  with  a  great 
shudder,  "to  occupy  our  houses  with  us — with- 
out paying  any  rent !  For  my  part  I  had  rather 
be  a  little  less  perfect  and  have  them  keep  at 
a  respectful  distance." 

"  That  is  one  interpretation  of  the  French- 
man's knotty  point,  Miss  Bowers,"  returned 
Conynghame,  laughing. 

"  A  knot  too  hard  for  Sir  Isaac  Newton  to 
untie,  as  he  declares  in  concluding  his  theory  on 
optical  illusions,"  said  de  Grey. 

"  It  was  not  too  hard  a  knot  for  Socrates," 
exclaimed  Bowers,  flourishing  his  right  arm  ora- 
torically  ;  "  he  came  out  flat-footed,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  bare-footed  on  all  that  relates  to— 

"  Say  ghosts,  Tom."  interrupted  Frank. 

"  Socrates,  being  himself  always  warned  of 
all  hostile  things  by  the  voice  of  his  dcemon  or 
good  spirit,"  interposed  Breta,  with  a  laudable 
desire  of  helping  Tom  out,  "taught  the  meaning 
and  value  of — ' 

"  Say  ghosts,  Breta.  That  includes  it  all," 
said  Frank. 

"These,  alas !  are  degenerate  times,  Miss 
Frank,"  asserted  Mr.  Black,  rolling  out  a  pon- 


TJie  Day  of  the  Matinee.  329 

derous  laugh.  "Times  of  scepticism  and  mat- 
ter of  fact.  The  rosy-cross  is  broken;  Euli- 
sinia  and  Delphi  are  buried  in  their  own  ashes  ; 
the  shaaes  of  Academic  are  silent ;  the  symbolic 
lore  of  Egypt  is  swathed  within  the  endless 
wrappings  of  mummies  ;  even  the  witches  of 
Salem  have  flown  away  on  their  own  broom- 
sticks ;  and  still  with  all  our  demand  for  the 
real,  we  are  all  slyly  fond  of  a  supernatural  rid- 
dle that  will  play  hob  with  our  natural  hair." 

"  It  is  so  easy  to  doubt,"  returned  Conyng- 
hame. 

"  And  so  easy  to  swallow  appearances  in 
blind  credulity ;  the  death  in  either  case  of 
faith — the  belief  of  conviction,"  added  de 
Grey.  "The  faith  that  is  the  culmination  of 
God's  power  in  man, — that  nurse  of  prophets 
and  cradle  of  martyrs  that  wrought  such  won- 
derful results  in  the  old  Bible  times,,  teaching 
that  the  inner  life  can  manifest  itself  through 
outward  signs  not  only  in  revelation  but  in 
valuable  scientific  discoveries  as  well — is  pos- 
sessed in  these  days  by  those  only  who  are  the 
leaders  of  the  forlorn  hopes  of  the  world." 

"It  is  some  forlorn  hope  I  have  always  de- 
sired to  help  rescue  from  ruin,"  said  Breta,  so 


330  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

unaffectedly  that  the  egotism  of  her  speech  was 
lost  in  its  perfect  simplicity. 

"  Whither  thou  goest  I  will  go,  Breta.  Shall 
it  be  through  the  Dark  Continent  ?  "  extlaimed 
Frank. 

"  Miss  Garnet  need  not  go  to  the  Dark  Con- 
tinent to  become  the  arbiter  of  a  forlorn  hope, 
when  she  is  so  much  needed  in  the  Home 
Mission  to  help  elevate  the  hearts  of  her  friends 
to  the  true  faith  by  the  divine  strains  of  her 
voice,"  said  Conynghame. 

"  Col.  Conynghame,  hand  what  you  have 
just  said  over  to  me,  and  consider  it  re-said," 
uttered  Frank,  enthusiastically. 

"  Moi   aussi  !  "  exclaimed  Tom,  tragically. 

Pythagoras  taught  by  precept  and  example 
that  the  working  out  one's  own  particular  gift 
is  the  highest  meed  we  can  bestow  on  humanity. 
Need  we  of  this  aesthetic  age,  who  revere  the 
antique,  go  farther  back  for  authority  ?  "  re- 
marked de  Grey,  having  laughed  at  Bovvers' 
melodramatic  imitation  of  Frank. 

"  And  how  much,  how  many  of  the  world's 
great  problems  have  hinged  on  that  Pythago- 
rean theorem, — that  placed  the  sun  in  the  cen- 
tre instead  of  its  having  to  gallop  around  the 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  331 

earth, — which  Copernicus  revived  and  Galileo 
perfected,  and  to  which  Pythagoras,  in  his  grat- 
itude at  having  discovered,  sacrificed  an  hun- 
dred oxen  ?  "  observed  Counsellor  Black,  ora- 
torically. 

"  One  thing  that  hinged  upon  that  same 
forty-seventh  proposition  of  the  first  book  of 
Euclid,  was  a  lively  bout  I  had  with  Old  Prex  ; 
and  I  barely  got  over  that  asses'  bridge ! " 
And  Bowers  laughed  as  he  concluded. 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  you  did  get  over  it, 
Tom  ?  "  asked  Frank,  her  eyes  brimming  over, 
teasingly. 

"  Breakers  ahead !  Look  out,  Sis.,  I  owe 
you  one  now." 

"  You  need  not  be  particular  about  paying  it, 
Tom.  I  am  magnanimous  and  forgive  my 
debtors,"  returned  Frank. 

"  That  is  the  way  they  keep  it  up  at  home," 
said  Mr.  Bowers,  pere,  who  had  been  listening 
silently  to  all  the  preceding  conversation. 
"They  give  one  no  rest,"  added  he,  laughing. 

"That /0«.r  asinorum  was  a  terrible  bridge 
to  get  over,  you  see,  Mr.  Bowers,"  said  Black, 
laughing  in  sympathy.  "But  now  that  the 
world  is  safely  this  side  of  it,  where  the  digging 


332  The  Benefit  of  the  DoubL 

is  so  much  easier,  and  so  many  buried  truths 
are  being  unearthed,  I  think  we  might  dig  out 
a  solution  to  the  singing  and  noises  I  heard  in 
this  house  four  months  ago — and  I  did  hear 
them.  You,  Joslyn,  who  have  studied  so 
deeply  into  this  sort  of  lore  and  can  sustain 
your  position  by  history,  tradition,  and  science, 
should  ferret  this  thing  out." 

"  All  I  have  feared,  Benjamin,"  returned 
Selma,  "  has  been  that,  in  ferreting  it  out, 
Josyln  might  lose  sight  of  the  affairs  of  our 
mundane — " 

"  Never  fear  it,  Cousin  Selma,"  interrupted 
Conynghame,  with  an  energy  so  quiet  and 
suave  that  he  seemed  more  as  though  coin- 
ciding with,  than  interrupting,  her.  "  Be  sure 
of  this,  Joslyn  is  not  one  to  lose  sight  of  any 
thing." 

A  comprehensive  gleam  of  good-humored 
mirth  shot  from  de  Grey's  eyes  as  he  re- 
plied : 

"  Selma,  you  and  Ralph  speak  of  me  on  the 
nay  and  aye  sides  as  though  I  were  non  est  in- 
ventus" 

"  Less  than  a  ghost,"  returned  Conynghame. 

"  Now  that   you   are   back  to   the  starting- 


The  Day  of  the  Matinee.  333 

point,  ghosts,  I  do  not  see  that  we  have  solved 
any  thing  except  that  Tom's  ghosts  are  cats, 
Mr.  Fred  Thorne  and  his  brother  Carl's  ghosts 
are  boys,  Mr.  Whyte  '  mixed  up  so,'  on  his,  and 
Mr.  Black  sure  of  his,"  asserted  Frank,  adding : 
"  And  while  mamma,  Signor  Trapassi,  Messrs, 
de  Grey  and  Conynghame  are  meandering  in 
a  fog  on  the  question,  I,  like  Counsellor  Black, 
am  a  firm  believer  in — o-hosts." 

o 

"  Counsellor  Black  considers  himself  in  good 
company,"  said  he,  bowing  to  Frank  and 
laughing  urbanely. 

The  maestro  who  had  been  a  silent  and  at- 
tentive listener  to  all  that  had  been  said,  man- 
ifesting by  the  keen  glance  of  his  eyes,  or  by  a 
ready  smile  his  appreciation  of  what,  as  the 
case  might  be,  was  profound  or  humorous,  now 
observed  in  a  tone  of  dry  irony  : 

"  Suppose,  Dio  sante  ! — suppose  we  give  the 
spiriti,  the  ghosts,  the  benefit  of  the  doubt." 


XXII. 

A    BOLD    STROKE. 

ON  the  day  after  the  matinee,  Elmwood 
was  almost  deserted  of  guests  ;  Breta, 
Mr.  Whyte,  and  Pella  only  remaining.  The 
count  went  to  prepare,  as  in  confidence  he  told 
Selma,  for  his  marriage — Miss  Morton  expecting 
her  trousseau  from  Paris. 

Frank  had  accompanied  her  mother  and 
father  home,  but  only  for  a  day,  having  tragi- 
cally declared  that  she  could  not  live  away  any 
longer  than  one  day  from  Breta. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  very  quiet  day,  Pella 
came  into  Breta's  room  with  her  sweetest 
smile. 

"  What  shall  I  wear,  Breta,  dear?  I  wish  to 
look  extra  nice,  as  it  is  not  often  I  get  much  of 
Mr.  de  Grey's  valuable  time."  And  Pella  gave 
Breta  a  very  arch  look,  adding  :  "  And  for  a 
drive,  too." 

334 


A  Bold  Stroke.  335 

"  A  drive,  Pella!  "  repeated  Breta,  somewhat 
startled. 

"  And  I  must  be  ready  in  five  minutes,"  re- 
turned Pella,  nodding  her  head  significantly. 
"It  would  not  answer  to  keep  Mr.  de  Grey 
waiting,  you  know." 

Much  bewildered,  Breta,  arrested  in  her  own 
preparations,  which  had  been  hurried,  as  she 
did  not  wish  to  lose  a  moment  of  the  time  ab- 
solutely alone  with  de  Grey, — the  time  so  pre- 
cious to  her, — turned  abruptly  facing  Pella  with 
the  quiet  dignity  so  entirely  her  own  : 

"  Did  you  say,  Pella,"  she  demanded.  "  that 
you  are  going  for  a  drive  now, — at  once  with 
Jos — Mr.  de  Grey  ?  " 

"  Just  as  soon  as  Fanchon  can  dress  me, 
dear,"  responded  Pella,  quite  innocently  ;  "  and 
as  we  shall  not  be  back  before  dusk  (poor  I 
have  never  been  to  the  cave  yet — did  I  say 
there  is  where  we  are  going  ?),  why,  I  shall 
take  warm  wraps  with  me — these  long  drives 
make  one  so  chilly.  But  here  I  stand  talking 
instead  of  getting  ready.  I  will  run  in  a  mo- 
ment for  you  to  see  if  my  bows  are  all  right ; 
your  taste  is  so  perfect."  And  she  bounded  off 
gayly. 


336  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Breta  stood  confused,  almost  stunned.  Her 
first  impulse  was  to  seek  Joslyn.  Then  calm- 
ing herself  by  an  effort,  the  thought  came  to 
her  that  Selma  must  have  concluded  to  go  with 
them  in  the  carriage  ;  and  nothing  doubting,  she 
had  just  concluded  her  preparations  as  Pella  re- 
turned. 

"  We  will  go  down  together,  Pella,"  said  she. 
"  How  did  Selma  find  time  to  go  with  us  ?  I 
thought  she  intended  to  oversee  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  ferneries  herself." 

"  Yes,  dear,  both  she  and  Mrs.  de  Grey  are 
engaged  with  the  florist  and  his  men,"  replied 
Pella,  surveying  herself  complacently  in  the 
mirror. 

Breta  grew  troubled  again  ;  and  walking 
thoughtfully  over  to  the  window,  saw  what  con- 
firmed her  doubts. 

"  Ah,  Charlie  has  just  driven  up  with  the 
two-horse  phaeton  !  "  exclaimed  Pella,  who  had 
tripped  gracefully  over  to  the  window  after 
Breta.  "  Really,  the  only  arrangement  for  two 
persons  I  like  is  a  phaeton.  But  au  revoir, 
love  "  ;  and  Pella  kissing  Breta,  skimmed  airily 
to  the  door  of  the  room,  looking  back  to 
say  : 


A  Bold  Stroke.  337 

"  How  shall  you  employ  yourself  while  we 
are  gone,  Breta  darling  ?  " 

The  we,  grated  on  Breta  harshly,  but  she 
answered  with  composure  that  she  had  letters 
to  write. 

"Oh,  I  know  well  who  will  come  in  for  one 
letter — if  he  has  not  already  returned  from 
Europe !  "  exclaimed  Pella,  kissing  her  hand 
lightly  to  Breta. 

De  Grey  was  standing  on  the  veranda  await- 
ing Breta's  approach.  Hearing  Pella's  light 
step  he  looked  up  from  the  flowers  he  held  in 
his  hand,  with  his  heart  in  his  eyes  ;  but  en- 
countering the  steely  gleam  of  Pella's  uncertain 
blue  eyes,  his  expression  instantly  changed. 

<l  Oh,  Mr.  de  Grey,  I  am  afraid  you  will  have 
to  be  content  with  me  for.  company  this  after- 
noon. Dear  Breta  sent  me  down  to  ask  you  to 
please  excuse  her  and  take  me  instead.  I  hope 
you  will  not  be  very  much  disappointed.  " 

"  Did  Bre — did  Miss  Garnet  give  any  reason 
for  breaking  her  engagement  with  me,  Miss 
Morton?  "  asked  de  Grey  with  a  directness  rhat 
any  one  less  amiable  than  Pella  would  have  re- 
sented. 

"  Oh,   Mr.  de  Grey,    you  are  disappointed. 


338  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

I  told  Breta  you  would  be.  But  she  would 
have  it  so — and  I  leave  Elmwood  so  soon. 
I  will  go  right  up  and  call  Breta  down,  Mr.  de 
Grey ;  she  tmist  keep  her  engagement  with 
you,"  and  Pella  spoke  with  such  deprecating 
sweetness,  that  de  Grey,  who  had  turned  from 
her  with  the  intention  apparently  of  going  in 
search  of  Breta  himself,  suddenly  turned  toward 
her. 

"  Say  no  more,  Miss  Morton,  I  beg,"  said  he, 
"  as  Bre — as  Miss  Garnet  wishes  it,"  and  real- 
izing that  he  was  quite  rude  to  his  sister's  guest, 
he  offered  her  his  arm  with  cold  politeness  and 
assisted  her  into  the  phaeton — Breta  looking 
down  on  them  from  her  window's  height  above 
— and  carelessly  tossing  away  the  beautiful  flow- 
ers in  his  hand,  and  taking  the  reins  from  Char- 
lie, the  groom,  de  Grey  seated  himself  beside 
Pella  and  drove  off. 

To  make  amends  for  his  rudeness  he  drove 
where  Pella  wished  ;  but  his  manner  was  so 
cold  and  he  so  absent,  that  any  one  less  good- 
tempered  than  she  would  have  requested  to  be 
driven  back  in  affront.  But  to  her  every  thing 
was  delightful.  It  was  Mr.  de  Grey  this  and 
Mr.  de  Grey  that,  and  just  before  they  arrived 


A  Bold  Stroke.  339 

back  at    Elm  wood   in    the    early  twilight,  she 
remarked,  as  by  accident  : 

"  I  wonder  if  Breta  has  finished  her  letters. 
She  said  she  had  letters  to  write,  but  I  think 
she  meant  letter.  It  has  been  a  great  secret, 
you  know,  Mr.  de  Grey — Breta's  marriage,  I 
mean — now  so  soon  to  take  place." 

"  So  soon  ?  "  repeated  de  Grey,  quite  aroused 
from  a  reverie  into  which  he  had  fallen. 

"  Within  a  week,  you  know,  Mr.  de  Grey ; 
but  if  you  do  not  know,  pray  do  not  let  it  tran- 
spire that  I  told  you." 

"  Indeed !  And  who  is  to  be  the  happy  man  ?  " 
asked  de  Grey,  with  cold,  doubting  irony. 

"  Why,  Mr.  de  Grey,"  returned  Pella,  with 
innocent  archness,  "  who  could  it  be  but  the 
gentleman  to  whom  Breta  has  been  so  long  en- 
gaged— Mr.  Dunraven,  of  course." 

As  de  Grey  made  no  reply,  Pella,  with  a  light 
laugh,  said  very  sweetly  : 

"  You  look  perfectly  incredulous,  Mr.  de  Grey. 
Now  let  me  tell  you  that  you  know  very  little 
what  is  in  young  ladies'  minds.  Breta,  aware 
that  Mr.  Whyte  and  all  her  friends  are  not 
much  in  favor  of  Mr.  Dunraven,  has  kept  her 
own  counsel.  But  you  will  see  that  I  am  right. 
Breta  herself  told  me — " 


34O  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  It  is  all  a  mistake,  Miss  Morton,  be  assured 
of  that,"  returned  de  Grey,  as  with  freezing 
politeness  he  assisted  Pella  from  the  phaeton. 

They  found  the  family  assembled  at  the  din- 
ner-table, and  Dunraven  (who  had  apparently 
dropped  down  from  the  skies)  assiduously  at- 
tentive to  Breta,  who,  pale  and  silent,  neither 
accepted  nor  repelled  his  attentions. 

Breta  did  not  vouchsafe  de  Grey  one  glance. 
Never  once  looking  up  from  her  plate,  she  ac- 
cepted what  was  offered  her,  but  ate  not  a 
mouthful. 

A  silence  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  all.  Mrs. 
de  Grey  and  Selma,  observant  of  their  guests, 
looked  troubled,  and  Mr.  Whyte,  sorely  per- 
plexed, glanced  from  one  to  another,  arriving 
at  no  satisfactory  solution  to  the  mystery. 

Pella  and  Dunraven  were  the  life  of  the  table. 
It  was  as  though  some  great  calamity  had  be- 
fallen the  household,  and  Pella,  generously 
sacrificing  all  thoughts  of  self,  was  making  un- 
flagging efforts  to  keep  up  the  spirits  of  the 
others. 

During  the  remainder  of  the  evening  de 
Grey  could  find  no  opportunity  to  have  a  word 
with  Breta.  She  avoided  him  with  studied  care, 


A  Bold  Stroke.  341 

permitting  Dunraven  to  hover  near  her,  al- 
though she  had  no  words  for  him  either.  Still 
Dunraven,  with  his  inimitable  attitudes  and  fine 
flow  of  language,  saw  nothing,  understood  noth- 
ing. His  coolness  and  tact  bore  him  through. 
And  while  making  himself  entertaining  to  all, 

o  o 

and  especially  interesting  Mrs.  de  Grey  with 
his  varied  information,  he  so  contrived  that  all 
he  said  should  be  a  personal  and  deferential  at- 
tention to  Breta. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning  and  at  lunch 
and  during  the  day  it  was  the  same  :  Breta, 
pale  and  silent,  appearing  with  the  rest,  but 
eating  nothing,  giving  de  Grey  no  opportunity 
for  a  word,  or  a  look,  with  her,  and  Dunraven 
ever  hovering  near  her. 

In  the  afternoon  de  Grey  strolled  through  the 
grounds  alone,  and  seated  himself  in  one  of  the 
summer-houses.  A  light  step  approaching  at- 
tracted his  attention,  and  Pella  appeared  before 
him. 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr.  de  Grey,"  said  she,  timidly, 
"  but  Breta  wished  me  and  no  one  but  me  to 
hand  you  this." 

Fella's  "  this,"  was  a  little  sealed  note,  and  it 
ran  thus  : 


342  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Do  not  seek  an  explanation.  I  felt  it  my 
duty  to  fulfil  a  promise  made  years  ago,  and 
in  the  face  of  my  promise  to  you  I  became  his 
wife.  Forgive  and  forget  the  unhappy 

"  BRETA  DUNRAVEN." 

Quite  stunned,  de  Grey  sought  for  calmness. 
He  examined  the  note,  turned  it  over,  and  read 
it  again.  It  was  unmistakably  Breta's  hand- 
writing. He  then  re-read  it,  and  having  risen 
on  Pella's  approach,  he  turned  toward  her,  ask- 
ing in  a  stifled  voice  : 

"  Do  you  know  the  contents  of  this  note, 
Miss  Morton  ?  " 

"  Assuredly,"  she  replied.  "  At  Breta's  re- 
quest I  was  witness  to  the  ceremony, — the 
only  witness." 

Steadying  himself  de  Grey  proceeded  toward 
the  house,  Pella  walking  by  his  side,  assuring 
him  in  the  sweetest  of  her  sweet  tones  that  he 
had  a  warm  and  sympathizing  friend  in  her. 
But  de  Grey  made  no  response  to  her  offers  of 
sympathy,  so  absorbed,  so  confounded  was  he 
by  the  blow  he  had  received,  that  he  scarcely 
heard  her. 

It  was  just  then  that  a  carriage  drove  up,  con- 
taining Frank,  Conynghame,  and  little  Nelly 


A  Bold  Stroke.  343 

Bowers,  whom  Frank  was  to  re-place  at  Miss 
Rutherford's. 

As  she  ascended  the  steps  of  the  veranda 
with  Conynghame,  Frank  took  in  the  strange- 
ness of  it  all.  Pella  looking  so  fresh  and  bright, 
so  innocently  happy,  that  it  was  quite  refresh- 
ing to  see  her  ;  and  de  Grey  so  haggard  and 
pale,  that  it  was  not  refreshing  to  see  him ; 
while  Breta,  the  ghost  of  herself,  was  sitting 
on  the  veranda ;  Dunraven  in  the  most  ex- 
quisite of  his  exquisite  attitudes,  leaning  against 
the  fluted  column  close  beside  her. 

Selma,  who  had  been  sitting  beside  Breta, 
came  forward  to  greet  Frank  and  her  cousin 
Ralph,  giving  the  kindliest  welcome  also  to 
little  Nelly.  But  she,  with  her  brother,  seemed 
much  troubled,  and  she  gave  a  commiserating 
look  at  her  brother,  who,  after  a  few  con- 
strained words  to  his  cousin  Ralph,  and  Frank, 
passed  quite  abruptly  into  the  house  and  up 
the  great  staircase  to  the  seclusion  of  his  own 
room. 

Frank  ran  up  to  Breta,  kissed  her  most  af- 
fectionately, Breta's  sad,  white  face  striking  a 
chill  into  her  heart,  and  then  ran  off  into  the 
house  and  up  the  broad  staircase  also,  but  not 


344  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

in  search  of  de  Grey.  It  was  Mr.  Whyte  she 
sought  ;  and  confronting  that  little  gentleman 
in  his  own  den,  surrounded  by  music  and 
ruled  paper,  she  exclaimed  energetically  : 

"  Mr.  Whyte,  can  you  tell  me  the  meaning 
of  this  horrible  state  of  affairs  ?  " 

"  State  of  affairs,  Miss  Frank  !  Have  the 
ghosts  really  returned  ? "  and  Mr.  Whyte 
looked  up  with  abstracted  interest  from  the 
figured  bars  he  was  noting. 

"  It  is  worse  than  ghosts,  Mr.  Whyte.  Here 
I  return  after  two  days'  absence  to  find  Pella 
Morton  bossing  the  whole  shebang.  She  has 
Joslyn  de  Grey  on  a  string,  and  he  looks  like  a 
worried  tiger- — haggard  and  gloomy.  Has 
Breta  thrown  him  ?  She  is  paler  than  any  of 
her  ghosts,  and  Selma  looks  troubled  enough 
with  it  all.  And  to  cap  the  whole,  there  is 
that  disgusting  Dunraven — pardon  me,  I  for- 
got he  is  your  nephew,"  and  Frank  stopped  to 
take  breath. 

"  No  harm  done,  Miss  Frank  ;  I  have  noticed 
all  this  with  much  distress  of  mind,"  responded 
Mr.  Whyte,  in  meek  dejection. 

"  Can  you  give  me  no  clue,  Mr.  Whyte, 
nothing  to  start  from,  for  I  shall  pitch  in  and 
shall  not  rest  until  I  ferret  it  all  out  ?  " 


A  Bold  Stroke.  345 

"  I  can  only  surmise,"  returned  Mr.  Whyte, 
with  a  sorely  puzzled  air,  "that  all  the  un- 
pleasantness dates  from  an  unaccountable  drive 
Miss  Morton  took  with  de  Grey  yesterday  af- 
ternoon." 

"  Thank  you  ;  I  am  certain  it  is  all  Pella," 
said  Frank,  and  she  flew  down  stairs,  but 
found  no  one  but  Conynghame,  and  he  was 
alone  in  the  drawing-room,  looking  over  the 
late  periodicals. 

"  Ralph,"  said  she,  mysteriously,  l<  something 
awful  has  transpired,  and  I  am  finding  it  out. 
There,  I  knew  it !  "  she  exclaimed,  darting  off 
before  Conynghame  had  time  to  speak,  leaving 
him  to  politely  speculate  on  the  cause  of  her 
flight. 

He  looked  from  the  window  through  which 
Frank  had  glanced  when  she  declared  she 
"  knew  it,"  and  seeing  only  Pella  and  Dunraven 
sauntering  toward  the  central  summer-house, 
he  gave  it  up  as  a  conundrum  too  deep  for  solu- 
tion ;  and  throwing  aside  his  magazine,  he  went 
in  search  of  his  cousin  Joslyn. 

Frank  left  the  house  from  the  back  entrance, 
running  like  a  deer,  and,  skirting  around  under 
cover  of  the  foliage,  arrived  at  the  central  sum- 


346  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

mer-house,  where  she  saw  Pella  was  going,  and 
concealed  herself  in  the  thick  shrubbery,  just  in 
time  to  hear  the  rumbling  tones  of  Dunraven's 

O 

voice,  and  then  Pella's  high  falsetto. 

"  One  never  knows  who  may  overhear  you 
in  the  house,"  said  Pella  ;  "  but  here  one  is  safe 
from  eavesdroppers.  Breta  is  in  her  own  room  ; 
Mr.  de  Grey  is  in  his  sister's  room — I  heard  both 
of  their  voices  distinctly, — and  Mrs.  de  Grey  is 
with  them  ;  Frank  is  in  the  drawing-room  with 
Colonel  Conynghame— I  saw  them  both  as  I  left 
the  house  ;  and  Mr.  Whyte  is  at  his  everlasting 
music.  So  you  see  I  can  say  a  few  words  to 
you  unheard  by  any  one." 

Frank  stifled  a  sneeze,  having  run  herself  into 
a  perspiration. 

"Say  on,  Miss  Morton,  I  am  all  ears." 

"  Never  was  truer  word  spoken— the  ears  of 
a  jackass!  "  inaudibly  muttered  Frank. 

"  I  only  wish  to  say,  Mr.  Dunraven,  that  I 
give  the  whole  thing  up.  Mr.  de  Grey  is  quite 
intractable,  and  for  a  gentleman  of  so  much  re- 
finement, is  positively  rude.  As  I  promised  you, 
I  secured  you  a  chance  for  you  to  see  Breta 
alone,  inducing  her  to  believe  that  Mr.  de  Grey 
had  invited  me  for  that  drive,  and  inducing  him 


A  Bold  Stroke.  347 

to  believe  that  Breta  had  already  married  you. 
I  quite  perjured  myself,  and  could  be  taken  up 
for  a  forger,"  and  Pella  laughed  gaily,  adding  : 
"  for  it  seemed  such  a  pity  that  one  so  hand- 
some, and  with  such  prospects  as  Mr.  de  Grey, 
should  throw  himself  away  on  such  a  nobody 
as  Breta  Garnet." 

"  What  I  have  been  trying  all  my  life  for— 
to  secure  the  regards  of  Miss  Garnet — the 
loveliest,  the  most  gifted  of  her  sex — in  no 
sense  a  nobody,  her  family  being  among  the 
oldest— 

"  Now  you  know,  Mr.  Dunraven,  I  do  not 
mean— 

"  Excuse  me,  Miss  Morton,  but  I  am  quite 
soured  that  all  your  diplomatic  tact  and  skill 
have  proved  so  unavailing.  J  have  just  re- 
ceived from  Bre — Miss  Garnet,  such  a  spirited 
and  galling  negative  to  my  oft-repeated  ques- 
tion that — 

"There!  I  will  positively  hear  no  more!1 
exclaimed  Frank,  springing  lightly  from  her 
hiding-place.  "  I  divined  it  all,  and  now  my 
worst  suspicions  are  confirmed."  And  before 
the  electrified  pair  fully  realized  what  had  elec- 
trified them,  Frank  had  disappeared.  Encoun- 


348  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

tering  Angelique,  she  asked  where  she  should 
find  Mr.  de  Grey. 

"  He  has  just  started  for  Europe,  mees,"  re- 
plied Angelique. 

"Where  is  Miss  de  Grey?  Tell  me  quickly, 
Angelique.  Good  heavens  !  Europe  !  "  and 
Frank  rushed  to  Selma's  room  where  Angelique 
had  directed  her,  and  burst  in  without  stopping 
to  knock,  almost  breathlessly  exclaiming  : 

"  Selma,  send  some  one  at  once  to  recall 
your  brother.  It  is  all  a  wicked  scheme  of 
Pella's  ;  I  have  found  it  all  out." 

"  I  will  ring  for  Bolton,"  replied  Selma,  hastily, 
readily  comprehending,  and  rising  she  pulled 
the  bell-rope. 

But  Frank,  not  waiting  for  the  ceremonious 
Bolton,  bolted  off  to  the  stables,  speeding  like 
an  antelope  in  full  chase,  and  giving  hurried 
orders  for  the  swiftest  horse  to  be  saddled,  and 
for  Charlie,  one  of  the  grooms,  to  ride  like  the 
wind  to  the  station,  and  to  tell  Mr.  de  Grey 
that  something  very  important  had  occurred, 
and  that  Miss  Selma  wished  him  to  return  at 
once. 

"  Now  tell  me  all  about  it,  my  dear  Frank," 
urged  Selma,  who  had  hurried  toward  the 


A  Bold  Stroke.  349 

stables  after  Frank.  "  You  are  quicker- witted 
than  I,  and  quite  right,  I  should  not  have  waited 
for  Bolton.  Poor  Joslyn  !  " 

"  Oh,  I  hope  it  may  not  be  too  late ! "  ex- 
claimed Frank. 

"  But  you  do  not  tell  me  why  you  are  so 
flushed  and  excited,  nor  what  Pella  Morton  has 
done,  nor  why  you  wish  Joslyn  recalled,"  said 
Selma,  putting  her  arm  around  Frank's  waist 
and  walking  on  with  her  toward  the  house. 

Frank  found  Selma  more  shocked  than  sur- 
prised at  the  discovery  she  had  made. 

"  Let  us  go  at  once  to  poor  Breta,"  urged 
Selma,  with  a  sweet  sympathy  beaming  in  her 
mild  eyes.  "  I  have  been  even  more  troubled 
for  her  than  for  Joslyn." 

"  During  all  this  time,"  said  Selma,  after 
Frank,  in  Breta's  room,  had  narrated  Pella's  in- 
terview with  Dunraven  the  second  time  for 
Breta's  benefit,  "  Joslyn  has  said  nothing  to 
me — not  a  word — until  half  an  hour  or  so  ago. 
He  then  showed  me  a  note  he  had  just  re- 
ceived from  Breta — or,  at  least,  in  Breta's  hand- 
writing,— announcing  her  marriage  with  Dun- 
raven,  and  signed  '  Breta  Dunraven  ' ;  and 
simply  saying,  '  I  am  going  to  Europe,  Selma, 


300  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

to  try  and  recover  from  the  shock  of  this,'  he 
kissed  me  and  was  gone." 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  exclaimed  Frank.  "  Did 
Pella  go  as  far  as  that?" 

"  How  could — how  could  Joslyn  have  believed 
it  possible  for  me  to — "  cried  Breta,  a  hot  flush 
suffusing  her  blanched  face. 

"  How  could — how  could  Breta  have  believed 
it  possible  for  him  to—  "  cried  Frank,  catching 
Breta  in  her  arms  and  kissing  her.  "  Why  did 
you  credit  Pella  when  she  came  to  you  with 
that  cock-and-bull  story  about  Joslyn's  asking 
her  to  go  with  him?  It 's  as  broad  as  it  is  long. 
But  people  in  love  are  such  fools.  Here  is  Jos- 
lyn steaming  off  to  Europe,  and  here  are  you 
starving  yourself  to  death — and  all  for  nothing," 
and  Frank  threw  herself  into  a  chair,  fanning 
herself  violently  with  the  black  Spanish  fan  at 
her  chatelaine. 

"  And  you,  Frank,  who  have  been  so  fortu- 
nate, it  seems,  as  to  have  escaped  the  conta- 
gion ?"  asked  Selma,  laughing  in  all  her  trouble. 

"  Oh,  I  ?  I  'm  not  sentimental  and  all  that," 
returned  Frank,  airily.  "  I  am  fond  of  Ralph, 
of  course — awfully  fond  of  him.  -But  when  he 
gets  spooney,  I  laugh  him  out  of  it,  and  he 


A  Bold  Stroke.  35 1 

politely  (Ralph  could  not  be  any  thing  but  polite) 
surrenders  at  discretiorj.  But  what  gets  me," 
continued  she,  seriously,  "  is  why  Joslyn,  who 
has  such  insight  into  character,  and  why  you, 
Breta,  who,  although  you  always  judge  people 
from  your  own  sublime  stand-point,  still  know 
Pella  so  well,  did  not  both  of  you  divine 
her  little  game.  I  should  have  twigged  at 
once." 

,  "  I  believe  you  would,  Frank,"  and  Breta 
laughed  at  Frank's  words  and  manner  because 
she  could  not  help  it.  "  But  it  was  so  sudden," 
extenuated  Breta,  "  so  unexpected,  so  naturally 
dene,  and  so — " 

"  And  so — catty,"  interrupted  Frank.  "  Pella 
certainly  has  a  genius  for  lying,  if  for  nothing 
else." 

•'  In  this — this  misunderstanding  I  have  been 
more  to  blame  than  Joslyn,  infinitely  more,"  ac- 
knowledged Breta,  remorsefully.  "  I  see  it  all 
now,  just  what  a — fool  I  was.  I  should  have 
gone  to  him  at  once,  as  I  first  thought.  And 
then  I  held  out  so — but  I  will  not  dwell  on 
what  Pella  has  done  ;  it  makes  every  drop  of 
blood  in  me  boil," 

"  I  love  to  boil,  Breta,"  exclaimed  Frank,  with 


352  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

energy.  "  Boiling  in  a  righteous  cause  is  per- 
fectly invigorating." 

A  knock  came  at  the  door.  It  was  Bolton 
who  had  come  to  say  that  Charlie  had  returned 
from  the  station  and  found  the  train  had  just 
started. 

"  And  Joslyn  said  he  would  have  time  only 
to  get  to  New  York  and  reach  the  steamer  be- 
fore the  hour  of  sailing,"  said  Selma. 

"  Send  a  telegram  at  once  to  the  steamship 
office,  nevertheless,  Selma,"  urged  Breta  ;  "  the 
steamer  may  have  been  delayed." 

Frank  was  with  the  much- neglected  Conyng- 
hame,  explaining  to  him,  and  Breta  was  with 
her  uncle,  when  Charlie  returned  again  from  the 
station  to  say  that  the  return  telegram  stated 
that  the  steamer  had  sailed. 

The  dinner-gong  sounded,  but  never  was  so 
daintily  cooked  dinner  more  slighted  :  de  Grey 
on  his  way  .to  Europe,  Pella  Morton  on  her  way 
to  Saratoga — her  aunt  had  sent  for  her,  she 
sweetly  told  Selma  and  Mrs.  de  Grey  when  she 
bade  them  good-by.  And  Dunraven,  having 
aroused  the  warm  sympathies  of  both  Mrs.  de 
Grey  and  Selma  in  his  behalf,  on  the  score  of 
his  undying  love  for  Breta,  a  love,  as  he  averred, 


A  Bold  Stroke.  363 

of  nineteen  years'  growth,  as  old  as  Breta  her- 
self, also  bade  farewell,  and  went  no  one  knew 
whither. 

Breta  wrote  a  letter  to  de  Grey  that  evening, 
that  no  one  saw.  It  lay,  white  and  silent, 
closely  packed  with  its  numerous  fellows — so 
many  individual  identities,  that  were  messen- 
gers of  joy  to  some,  of  grief  to  others  ;  that 
were  wave-tossed  and  wind-tossed ;  that  had 
wellnigh  found  a  watery  grave, — and  steaming 
at  last  safely  into  harbor,  each  mute  intelligence 
found  its  final  destination. 


XXIII. 

THE    HALF    IS    GREATER    THAN    THE    WHOLE. 

ALL  who  had  been  staying  at  Elmwood, 
with  the  exception  of  Pella  and  the 
count,  were  in  New  York,  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  the  steamer  containing  de  Grey,  who  had 
started  for  home  three  days  after  arriving  in 
Liverpool.  On  the  same  day,  in  that  city  also, 
he  had  received  Breta's  letter.  He  had  previ- 
ously cabled  his  arrival  to  his  mother  and  sister, 
and  had  received  cable  telegrams  in  return  in- 
dividually, as  well  as  collectively,  from  all  most 
nearly  interested  in  him. 

As  Frank  passed  into  the  elegantly  ap- 
pointed drawing-room  of  her  father's  princely 
up-town  residence,  Conynghame  turned,  at  her 
approach,  from  the  contemplation  of  the  master- 
work  of  art  by  Meissonier  to  the  master-work 
of  nature,  his  fine,  powerful  face  lighting  up 
with  the  admiration  he  felt  for  the  beautiful 

354 


The  Half  is  Greater  tlian  the  Whole.     355 

vision  before  him,  that  the  painting  had  failed 
to  call  forth.  And  the  beautiful  vision,  as  her 
splendid  glance  rested  in  his,  fully  appreciated 
the  admiration  points  she  had  evoked  in  his 
eyes. 

"  Frances,"  said  he,  after  the  greetings  were 
over,  "  I  have  an  extra  carriage  at  the  door  ex- 
clusively for  Joslyn  and  Breta,  that  they  can — " 

"  Have  a  chance  to  fight  it  out  by  them- 
selves. How  very  thoughtful  of  you,  Ralph," 

interrupted  Frank.     "  You  put  yoursell   in   his 

i        " 
place. 

"  Precisely  so,"  returned  Conynghame,  with  a 
laugh. 

"  The  steamer  is  detained  off  Sandy  Hook 
longer  than  usual,  is  it  not  ? "  asked  Frank, 
taking  off  her  gloves  to  select  some  buds  from 
a  vase  of  choice  flowers,  which,  arranging  into 
an  exquisite  button -hole  bouquet,  she  coyly 
placed  on  the  breast  of  Conynghame's  coat. 

"  The  fog  was  lifting,  the  last  despatch 
stated,  and  the  steamer  is  now  coming  up  the 
harbor,"  replied  Conynghame,  looking  down 
through  the  flossy  threads  of  her  rich,  dark 
hair  on  the  deft,  little,  brown,  tapering  fingers  at 
their  work. 


356  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  And  then  poor  Breta  will  see  Joslyn,"  said 
Frank,  looking  up  at  Conynghame,  and  then 
with  a  sweep  of  her  long,  jet-black  lashes  shut- 
ting him  out  again  as  she  softly  patted  down 
the  flowers,  having  finished  arranging  them. 
"  Breta  looks  like  something  glorified.  She  is 
the  loveliest  being  I  ever  saw  at  any  time,  but 
this  morning  she  absolutely  takes  your  breath 
away  to  behold  her." 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  assented  Conynghame, 
looking  straight  into  Frank's  eyes. 

"  Oh,  if  you  turn  every  thing  that  way  I  '11 — " 

"  Pray  don't,  I  entreat !  "  exclaimed  Conyng- 
hame, laughing  at  the  recollection  of  the  many 
spicy  retaliations  to  which  she  had  treated 
him. 

"It  is  quite  time  we  started,"  said  Selma, 
coming  into  the  room  in  her  becoming  carriage 
dress.  "  Benjamin  has  just  arrived,  and  has  an 
extra  carriage  for  Joslyn  and  Breta.  We  must 
manage  that  she  does  not  suspect — " 

"  Are  all  ready  ?  "  exclaimed  Tom  Bowers, 
hastily  entering  the  room.  "  Another  despatch 
just  received,  and  we  '11  be  in  time  to  meet  the 
steamer  at  her  dock  if  we  start  at  once. 
Where  's  Miss  Breta  ?  The  carriages  are  all  at 


The  Half  is  Greater  than  Uie  Wlwle.     357 

the   door,    with    an    additional    one    I    ordered 
for- 

"  For  Mr.  de  Grey's  valet,  Tom.  Just  the 
thing.  Judson  can  now  be  driven  from  the 
steamer  in  state." 

"  Are  you  out  of  your  head,  Frank  ?  De 
Grey's  valet  will  ride  with  the  coachman  of 
course,"  said  Tom. 

"  Not  so,  Tom.  Don't  you  see  ?  Ralph  has 
ordered  an  extra  carriage — now  at  the  door— 
for  Breta  ;  Selma,  or  rather  Mr.  Black,  another 
— now  at  the  door — for  Joslyn  ;  and  you  a  third 
— now  at  the  door — for  Joslyn 's  valet.  Don't 
you  see,  a  sum  in  the  rule  of  three?  When 
shall  the  procession  start  ?  " 

"  Frank,  you  are  a  humbug.  But  we  waste 
time  ;  shall  I  ring  to  hurry  up  the  rest  ?  Ah, 
here  they  come,"  and  Tom  grotesquely  checked 
off  the  whole  party  with  his  fingers. 

Breta  had  just  received  a  private  telegram 
from  de  Grey,  and  the  joy  of  it  shone  in  her 
eyes  and  in  her  lovely  face,  surrounding  her  as 
with  a  halo. 

"  Breta,  you  twinkle  like  a  star,"  said  Frank. 

"  Come,  let  us  be  off,"  and  Tom  offered  his 
arm  to  Sadie. 


358  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

"  Mr.  Whyte,  take  good  care  of  Breta,"  said 
Frank,  laughing,  as  she  followed  Tom  and 
Sadie,  on  Conynghame's  arm.  "  She  looks  like 
a  flame,  fairly  incandescent  ;  like  something 
not  of  this  earth." 

"  I  say,  Sis.,  where  did  you  find  that  big 
word  ?  "  asked  Tom,  looking  around  at  Frank, 
with  Sadie  on  his  arm. 

How  Breta  and  de  Grey  made  their  peace 
never  transpired.  All  that  was  heard  was  as  de 
Grey  was  assisting  Breta  from  the  carriage,  in 
front  of  the  Bowers'  mansion. 

"  Joslyn,"  she  asked,  "  how  soon  do  you  sail 
for  Europe  again  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  are  ready  to  go  with  me," 
was  the  reply. 

And  all  that  was  seen  of  the  peace-making 
was  what  appeared  in  their  countenances,  radi- 
ant with  the  fulness  of  their  content. 

The  carriages  reduced  in  number  to  four, 
all  stopped  at  the  Bowers',  where,  by  special 
invitation,  the  fatted  calf,  in  honor  of  de  Grey's 
return,  was  to  be  eaten.  And  just  as  the  rather 
lively  ceremony  of  dinner  was  over,  a  farewell 
call  was  received  from  Count  Gueret,  who  in- 
formed his  friends  that  he  was  to  sail  on  the 


The  Half  is  Greater  than  the  WJwle.     359 

morrow  with  Miss  Morton  and  her  aunt,  to  join 
her  brother  in  Paris,  and  that  the  wedding  was 
to  take  place  in  his  own  chateau,  then  being 
magnificently  fitted  up — but  with  whose  money 
he  did  not  specify. 

Weeks  of  much  gaiety  followed,  all  remain- 
ing in  New  York  at  the  de  Grey's  and  Bovvers' 
— their  residences  being  but  a  few  blocks  apart. 
Elmwood  being  left  in  the  care  of  Mrs.  Judith, 
who  had  proved  so  efficient  and  trustworthy, 
with  her  tablets  hanging  at  her  side  on  which 
to  write  her  orders. 

There  were  operas  to  be  heard,  pictures  to  be 
seen,  and  meantime  great  preparations  were 
going  on  for  a  great  event  :  the  four  mar- 
riages. 

Invitations  to  all  the  distinguished  doings  in 
fashionable  life  poured  in  upon  them.  Breta, 
Frank,  and  Sadie  were  admired  as  new  stars  in 
the  firmament  of  fashion ;  and  those  who  were 
fortunate  enough  to  hear  Breta  sing  talked  of 
nothing  but  her  voice,  her  method,  and  her 
marvellous  beauty. 

Little  Mr.  Whyte,  with  his  wealth,  became  a 
mark  for  designing  mammas.  Never  were  such 
strains  as  those  produced  by  his  Stradivarius  ; 


360  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

and  with  mild  astonishment  he  accepted  their 
adulations  in  most  oblivious  innocence. 

One  day  at  dinner  (they  were  all  dining  with 
Mrs.  de  Grey  that  day)  an  imposing  letter  illu- 
minated by  a  coronet  was  handed  to  Selma. 

"  Monsieur,  the  Count,  and  Madame,  the 
Countess  Gueret's  wedding  cards,"  said  she, 
handing  them  to  her  mother. 

"  /never  should  have  married  a  man  as  old 
again  as  myself  if /had  been  Pella  !  "  exclaimed 
Frank,  with  a  shiver.  "  Just  think  once,  the 
count  is  forty  and  Pella  twenty.  When  she  is 
forty  he  will  be  eighty,  and  when  she  is  eighty 
he  will  be  one  hundred  and  sixty!  /could  not 
stand  a  husband  one  hundred  and  sixty  years 
old."  And  Frank  shivered  a^ain. 

o 

"  Miss  Frances  has  evidently  been  studying 
the  lightning  calculator,"  observed  de  Grey, 
turning  to  Conynghame,  who  was  shaking  with 
laughter. 

"  Frank  learned  the  rule  of  Hesiod's  staff 
with  Professor  Broadhead,  and  he  insisted  so 
savagely  that  '  the  half  is  greater  than  the 
whole,'"said  Breta,  with  a  quizzically  loving  look 
at  Frank,  "  that  she  gave  him  a  Roland  for  his 
.Oliver." 


The  Half  is  Greater  tJian  Hie  Whole.     361 

"We  are  all  athirst  for  information,  Miss 
Breta,"  said  Black. 

"  Come,  Sis.,  I  can  see  by  Miss  Breta's  face 
it  is  too  good  to  be  lost,"  insisted  Tom ;  "  we 
are  dying  for  the  Roland." 

"  You  may  give   it,  Breta,"  consented  Frank. 

"  It  was  in  the  prosody  lesson,"  began  Breta  ; 
"  I,  also  was  in  the  class.  The  professor  was 
unwarrantably  rude  in  criticising  a  scanning  ex- 
ercise of  Frank's,  averring,  with  a  sneer,  that  in 
attempting  the  iambic  of  the  Homeric  hex- 
ameter, she  had  introduced  dactyls  enough  to 
drive  old  Melesigenes  mad.  And  then  he 
quoted  Hesiod's  celebrated  staff  from  his  '  Works 
and  Days,'  and  Frank  said  it  was  absurd  to  say 
the  half  is  greater  than  the  whole.  Where- 
upon the  professor  started  on  the  war-path 
in  earnest,  declaring  that  either  Miss  Bowers  or 
he  should  quit  the  school.  Then  it  was  that  for 
his  ancient  classics  Frank  gave  him  a  leaf  from 
what  she  calls  the  modern  classics." 

"  The  pit  and  gallery  shriek  for  the  leaf  from 
the  modern  classics,"  said  Tom. 

"  Oh,  it  was  over  a  year  ago,  when  I  was  young 
and  foolish,"  returned  Frank,  laughing.  "  When 
he  said  that  either  he  or  I  must  quit  the  school, 


362  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

I  told  him  that  as  he  had  declared  some  one 
must  go,  and  as  he  was  on  his  ear  he  had  better 
walk  off  on  his  ear  with  Hesiod's  staff  to  lean 
on." 

"  Why,  Frank !  "  exclaimed  her  mother. 

"  Shocking,  was  it  not,  mamma  ?  "  said  Frank. 

"  And  the  result  ?"  asked  Conynghame,  nearly 
convulsed. 

"  The  result  was,"  interposed  Sadie,  blushing 
to  her  square,  delicate  forehead,  "  the  whole 
class  screamed  with  laughter,  and  the  professor 
fairly  danced  with  anger.  His  tarantula  over, 
he  appealed  to  Miss  Rutherford." 

"  Breta,  meantime,  had  gotten  hold  of  me," 
added  Frank,  "  and  as  she  is  the  only  one  who 
has  ever  put  a  head  on — who  has  ever  caused 
me  to  listen  to  reason,  I  agreed  to  tell  Miss 
Rutherford  I  would  retract." 

"  Did  you  retract,  Sis.  ?  "  asked  Tom,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  I  told  the  professor  I  was  convinced  the 
half  is  far  greater  than  the  whole,  being  certain 
he  meant  only  one-half  of  what  he  had  said  so 
wholesale.  The  professor  laughed,  and  peace 
reigned." 

"  It  would  have  been  as  well  it   some  of  our 


The  Half  is  Greater  than  the  Wlwle.     363 

modern  poets,  with  Hesiod,  could  have  discov 
ered  that  the  half  is  greater  than  the  whole," 
observed  de  Grey. 

"  And  some  of  our  windy  lawyers  and  states- 
men," added  Black. 

"  It  would  hardly  answer  in  rationing  an 
army  ;  the  boys  might  object  and  demand  the 
whole,"  said  Ralph. 


XXIV. 

EIGHT    MADE    FOUR. 

THE  days,  meantime,  flew  by,  and  so  many 
and    such    mysterious    and   varied  pre- 
parations were  going  on  all  around  him,  that 
Tom  came  to  his  sister  one  morning  in  great 
perplexity. 

"  Will    you  enlighten  me,   Sis.,   as  to  when 
this  four-cornered  affair  is  to  come  off?  I  being- 

o 

one  of  the  corner  pillars  would  like  to  know  in 
time  to  buy  my  white  kids.  I  ask  Sadie,  but 
the  little  thing  shyly  refers  me  to  you.  I  ask 
Miss  Selma,  and  she  smiles  beamingly  and 
knowingly  and  says  nothing." 

"  She  thinks,  of  course,  you  are  making  be- 
lieve, Tom  Bowers  like." 

"  But  when  a  fellow  does  n't  know,  Sis.,  and 
is  of  an  enquiring  mind  ?  " 

"  And  you  pretend  to  say  you  do  not  know 
when  ?  " 

364 


Eight  Made  Four.  355 

"  I  pretend  to  nothing,  Sis.  All  I  know  is 
that  the  agony  is  to  be  put  through  in  a  lump, 
which  will  make  it  easier  for  us  all — I  having  to 
bear  but  one-eighth,  until  that  little  rose-bud 
Sadie  and  I  are  one.  That  's  the  advantage  of 

o 

co-operation.     I  Ve  figured  it  down  to  a  fine 
point  you  see,  Sis.  ;  now  tell  me  when." 

"  Just  two  weeks  from  to-day,  you  absurd 
Tom." 

"  Oh  !  "  gasped  Tom.  "  Thank  you,  Sis.— 
don't  I  look  pale  ?  " 

"You  never  looked  less  pale  in  your  life, 
Tom.  I  suppose  you  are  ignorant  also,  that 
the  affair  is  to  come  off  at  Elmwood." 

"  Oh,  that  I  know  ;  and  of  all  the  wonderful 
preparations  that  are  going  on  at  Elmwood. 
And  I  know  also  that  you  and  all  our  ladies  are 
closeted  for  hours  at  a  time  with  Madame  Flam- 
beau and  her  lesser  torches  in  some  mys- 
terious Blue- Beard  chamber  up-stairs,  so  that  I 
can  scarcely  get  a  squint  at  Sadie  of  late." 

"  Poor  boy !  Did  you  know,  too,  the  time  we 
have  had  about  bride's-maids  ?  I  thought  we 
should  have  to  advertise  for  them.  But  so  many 
stylish  cousins — like  Robin  Hood's  men — start- 
ed up,  that  the  next  trouble  was  to  make  choice 


366 


The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 


from  among  them  all.  A  whole  legion  of  lov- 
ing and  aristocratic  cousins,  since  Breta  is 
known  as  Mr.  Whyte's  heiress,  and  de  Grey's 
fiancee,  have  suddenly  discovered  that  she  is  the 
most  wonderful  being  in  existence.  And  she 
is  all  of  that  without  them  to  discover  it." 

"•Agreed.  But  never  mind  the  aristocratic 
cousins,  Sis.;  look  here.  Happy  thought!  "  and 
Tom  took  from  his  pocket  a  letter,  and  on  the 
back  of  it  drew  the  following  diagram. 

Breta, 


Selma. 


Black, 


de  Grey, 


"  Weddings  made  easy.  We  must  all  stand 
thus,"  continued  Tom,  as  he  wrote  in  the  names, 
"  and  the  lines  can  be  filled  out  with  your  bride's- 
maids  and  things.  It  is  complete — the  square 
described  on  the  hypothenuse  equalling  the  sum 


Eight  Made  Four.  367 

of  the  squares  on  the  base  and  perpendicular, 
you  see.  Solving  the  forty-seventh  proposition." 

"  Go  along  with  your  fifteen  puzzle.  Why, 
Tom,  that  's  the  diagram  of  that  bridge  you 
spread  yourself  so  on  that  evening  at  Elm- 
wood,  and  Mr.  Black  said  was  so  hard  to  get 
over." 

"  The  very  same,  Sis.  I  shall  submit  my 
diagram  to  him.  Black  being  one  of  New 
York's  first  lawyers,  will  see  the  value  of  it — 
will  advise  me  to  get  it  patented  for  the  benefit 
of  bashful  young  men.  I  am  going  now  for 
those  white  kids.  Au  revoir." 

"  Hold,  Tom.  Let  me  tell  you.  I  am  now 
quite  certain  you  never  fairly  got  over  that 
bridge,  but  are  on  this  side  of  it  still," 

"  Lend  me  your  fan,  Sis.  I  feel  quite  faint. 
Poor  Conynghame !  That  last  shot  has  done 
for  me,"  and  Tom,  in  his  drollest  way,  collapsed 
into  an  arm-chair,  fanning  himself  with  his 
hand. 

"  Tom,"  exclaimed  Frank,  laughing,  "  as  suc- 
cessor to  the  immortal  Burton,  you  would  win 
endless  laurels." 

"There  are  two  of  us,  Sis.,  thou  and  I," 
groaned  Tom  from  the  depths  of  the  arm-chair. 


368  The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

Somehow  an  acre  of  winter  garden  of  rarest 
flowers,  adjoining  the  house,  had  sprung  up  at 
Elmwood,  resplendent  with  Chinese  lanterns 
and  every  device  art  could  suggest  to  make  it 
attractive.  And  the  great  house  was  filled  to 
overflowing  with  wedding  guests  for  a  week  be- 
fore the  auspicious  day. 

Mrs.  Conynghame,  Ralph's  mother,  with  his 
sister  and  her  husband,  had  come  from  a  pro- 
longed sojourn  abroad  to  be  present  at  the  cere- 
mony— or  ceremonies. 

Madama  the  Contessa  Romano  came  all 
the  way  from  Milan  to  witness  the  marriage  of 
her  darling  Breta,  whom  she  had  not  seen  for 
over  three  years. 

The  maestro,  Signor  Trapassi  (returned  from 
his  United  States  tour),  hurried  the  latter  part 
of  his  sight-seeing  in  order  to  be  at  Elmwood 
in  time. 

The  young  Thornes  were  there,  with  their 
father  and  mother,  as  also  were  all  the  numer- 
ous aristocratic  cousins  and  aunts. 

The  Misses  Rutherford  and  the  dignitary 
and  elite  of  Lea,  including  the  Gen.  Leightons, 
the  Judge  Waltons,  and  Squire  Atwood,  were 
present  at  the  ceremony.  And  lastly,  standing 


Eight  Made  Four.  369 

with  more  imposing  grace  than  ever,  several 
inches  above  the  tallest  present,  Noel  Dunra- 
ven  was  there,  taking  captive  all  the  disengaged 
hearts  of  the  bride's- maids  and  the  aristocratic 
cousins  by  his  handsome  face  and  magnificent 
attitudes. 

He  had  sent  to  Breta,  with  a  penitential 
letter  craving  permission  to  be  present,  a 
penitential  bird  ingeniously  and  skilfully  exe- 
cuted in  mosaic,  entirely  of  rare  and  costly 
gems,  and  bearing  in  its  beak  a  full-sized  lily. 
The  artist  had  so  successfully  fashioned  the  lily 
that,  as  though  just  freshly  plucked,  the  morn- 
ing dew  was  still  on  its  delicate  petals.  It  was 
a  significant  and  suggestive  offering,  and  shone 
conspicuous  among  the  profusion  of  exquisite 
and  expensive  bridal  gifts. 


The  house  was  deserted  of  all  but  its  young 
master  and  mistress  and  the  servants.  Frank 
and  Conynghame  had  just  started  for  Southern 
Italy  ;  Sadie  and  Tom  for  a  winter's  peep  at 
Niagara,  after  which  they  were  going  to 
Havre  to  meet  Sadie's  father,  who,  having  been 
present  at  the  wedding  of  his  daughter,  ex- 


The  Benefit  of  the  Doubt. 

pected  to  return  in  the  first  steamer.  Selma 
and  Black  had  left  for  Havana,  and  Mr.  Whyte 
had  but  just  started  with  Signer  Trapassi  and 
the  Contessa  Romano  for  Milan.  The  carriage 
was  at  the  door  that  was  to  convey  Breta  and 
de  Grey  to  New  York,  whence  they  ex- 
pected shortly  to  sail  for  a  visit,  first  to  Paris, 
and  then  to  the  other  scenes  of  Breta's  early 
days,  joining  Mr.  Whyte  at  Milan. 

Breta  had  greatly  feared  the  embarrassment 
of  her  new  position  when  coming  face  to  face 
with  it.  But  de  Grey  had  made  it  so  easy  for 
her  by  his  manner,  so  tactful  and  considerate, 
so  full  of  almost  tender  pity,  that  she  stood  be- 
side him  in  her  pretty  gown  for  travelling,  with 
her  furred  wraps  on  her  arm,  the  matron  of 
but  two  short  hours,  listening  to  what  he  was 
saying,  with  her  eyes  full  of  a  sweet  content,  and 
as  calm,  outwardly  at  least,  as  was  her  usual 
wont. 

"  I  have  learned  to  think  with  you,  Breta, 
darling,"  he  continued,  as,  having  handed  her 
into  the  carriage,  the  door  was  shut  upon  them 
and  they  drove  off.  "  I  have  come  to  the  con- 
clusion that  going  in  search  of  the  intangible 
with  so  much  in  the  tangible  to  live  for,  would 


Eight  Made  Four.  371 

be  a  lack  of  due  regard  for  the  tangible."  And 
he  looked  down  into  the  eyes  of  the  living  tan- 
gible before  him  with  a  look  so  reverently  full 
of  the  regard  of  which  he  spoke,  that  the  world 
seemed  to  melt  away  from  before  her  vision, 
and  in  a  voice  of  utter  peace  all  she  said  was : 

"Joslyn,  you  and  I  have  only  just  begun  to 
live." 


Elmwood  is  still  bountifully  kept  up,  and  each 
summer  sees  the  reunion  there  of  the  eight 
who  were  made  four.  Breta  and  de  Grey,  with 
Mr.  Whyte  (looking  more  like  a  boy  that  had 
forgotten  to  grow  old  than  ever),  and  with 
Frank  and  Conynghame  (Frank  still  declaring 
she  could  not  live  away  from  Breta)  make  it 
their  home.  And  the  strangest  thing  of  all 
is,  that  the  four — the  six  when  Sadie  and  Tom 
are  there,  the  eight  when  Selma  and  Black  are 
there — have  never  once  quarrelled.  And  to  this 
day  the  faintest  supernatural  sound  has  never 
since  been  heard  ;  and  they  do  not  give  the 
ghosts  even  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 


THE    END. 


3S 


